Shakespeare's SonnetsTicknor and Fields, 1865 - 160 sider |
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Side iv
... dost thou make the shame . I grant thou wert not married to my muse ... I never saw that you did painting need .. If my dear love were but the child of state .... If the dull substance of my flesh were thought . If there be nothing new ...
... dost thou make the shame . I grant thou wert not married to my muse ... I never saw that you did painting need .. If my dear love were but the child of state .... If the dull substance of my flesh were thought . If there be nothing new ...
Side vi
... dost thou to mine eyes ... Thus can my love excuse the slow offence .... Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn . Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts .. Thy gift , thy tables , are within my brain .. Tir'd with all these , for ...
... dost thou to mine eyes ... Thus can my love excuse the slow offence .... Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn . Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts .. Thy gift , thy tables , are within my brain .. Tir'd with all these , for ...
Side 9
... dost beguile the world , unbless some mother . For where is she so fair , whose un - ear'd womb Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry ? Or who is he so fond , will be the tomb Of his self - love , to stop posterity ? Thou art thy ...
... dost beguile the world , unbless some mother . For where is she so fair , whose un - ear'd womb Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry ? Or who is he so fond , will be the tomb Of his self - love , to stop posterity ? Thou art thy ...
Side 10
... dost thou abuse The bounteous largess given thee to give ? Profitless usurer , why dost thou use So great a sum of sums , yet canst not live ? For having traffic with thyself alone , Thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive . Then ...
... dost thou abuse The bounteous largess given thee to give ? Profitless usurer , why dost thou use So great a sum of sums , yet canst not live ? For having traffic with thyself alone , Thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive . Then ...
Side 34
... dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven : So flatter I the swart - complexion'd night ; When sparkling stars twire not , thou gild'st the even . But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer , And night doth nightly make grief's ...
... dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven : So flatter I the swart - complexion'd night ; When sparkling stars twire not , thou gild'st the even . But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer , And night doth nightly make grief's ...
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art thou bear beauteous beauty's better angel black night blessed breast bright brow canker canst cheek chide churl cruel Cupid cure dead dear love death decay delight disgrace dost thou doth live eternal eye doth eye hath face false faults fear flowers forsworn foul gainst gentle grace hast thou hate heaven hell holy fire Lest look love thee Love's fire mind mistress muse night numbers Oaths of thy painted perjur'd pity pleasure poor praise pride proud prove rose scythe shadow shalt shame soul spirit steal summer's swear sweet love sworn thee fair tell thence thine eyes things thou art thou dost thou hast thou know'st thou lov'st thou may'st thou upon thy thou wilt thought thy beauty thy fair thy heart thy love thy sweet thy worth thyself Time's tongue truth verse vex'd Whilst youth
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Side 24 - But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest ; Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou growest : So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
Side 58 - So am I as the rich, whose blessed key Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure, The which he will not every hour survey, For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure. Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare, Since seldom coming, in the long year set, Like stones of worth they thinly placed are, Or captain jewels in the carcanet.
Side 103 - Like widow'd wombs after their lords' decease : Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me But hope of orphans, and nnfather'd fruit; For summer and his pleasures wait on thee, And thou away, the very birds are mute ; Or, if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer, That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near.
Side 110 - To me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I eyed, Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold Have from the forests shook three summers...
Side 100 - They that have power to hurt and will do none, That do not do the thing they most do show, Who, moving others, are themselves as stone. Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow. They rightly do inherit heaven's graces And husband nature's riches from expense-, They are the lords and owners of their faces. Others but stewards of their excellence.
Side 133 - In the old age black was not counted fair, Or if it were, it bore not beauty's name; But now is black beauty's successive heir, And Beauty slander'd with a bastard shame : For since each hand hath put on Nature's power, Fairing the foul with Art's false borrow'd face, Sweet Beauty hath no name, no holy bower, But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace. Therefore my Mistress...
Side 29 - O'ercharg'd with burden of mine own love's might. O, let my books be then the eloquence And dumb presagers of my speaking breast, Who plead for love and look for recompense More than that tongue that more hath more express'd. O, learn to read what silent love hath writ; To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit. XXIV. Mine eye hath play'd the painter and hath stell'd Thy beauty's form in table of my heart; My body is the frame wherein 't is held, And perspective it is best painter's art.
Side 29 - As an unperfect actor on the stage, Who with his fear is put besides his part, Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage, Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart...
Side 153 - My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease ; Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please.
Side 18 - When lofty trees I see barren of leaves, Which erst from heat did canopy the herd, And summer's green all girded up in sheaves, Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard ; Then of thy beauty do I question make, ' for store, ie to be preserved for use.