Sonnet 16

But wherefore do not you a mightier waie

Make warre upon this bloudie tirant time?

And fortifie your selfe in your decay

With meanes more blessed then my barren rime?


Now stand you on the top of happie houres,

And many maiden gardens yet unset,

With vertuous wish would beare your living flowers,

Much liker then your painted counterfeit:


So should the lines of life that life repaire

Which this (Times pensel or my pupill pen)

Neither in inwards worth nor outward faire

Can make you live your selfe in eies of men,


To give away your selfe, keeps your selfe still,

And you must live, drawne by your owne sweet skill.

Commentary

Address to a fair young man encouraging him to procreate

The first quatrain follows on from the previous sonnet, asking why the young man does not use a 'mightier' way (than the poet's poetry) to battle against time, using means 'more blessed' than the poet's 'barren rime'. The means would be more blessed because ...

The second quatrain obeserves that the young man is in his prime, and many eligible females would be more than happy to receive him into their 'maiden gardens', and would gladly and virtuously bear his 'living flowers', who will be much liker to him than a painted portrait.

The third quatrain and the final couplet demonstrate a complex patchwork of concepts which might be put together in many ways: it is in the nature of Shakespeare's poetry that multiple meanings are possible and can be equally valid. 'My barren rime' and 'your painted counterfeit' mentioned previously in the sonnet can be linked with the 'lines of life that life repaire', lines being both lines of poetry and lines of a drawing. The 'drawn by your own sweet skill' also links in to these concepts, but implies actual actions rather than words or pictures. The overall sense seems to be that the young man can neither rely on the poet's rhymes nor on a painted portrait to make him live on, only he can do that, by procreating. Having said that, the whole is somewhat complicated by the concept 'Times pensel', which would seem to be going in the opposite direction by putting 'lines' of age on the young man's face. Nobody's perfect.