Tag: sonnet
Sonnet CXXXIX by William Shakespeare
That thy unkindness lays upon my heart;
Wound me not with thine eye, but with thy tongue:
Use power with power, and slay me not by art,
11.02.2005
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O! call not me to justify the wrongThat thy unkindness lays upon my heart;
Wound me not with thine eye, but with thy tongue:
Use power with power, and slay me not by art,
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Sonnet CXXXVIII by William Shakespeare
I do believe her though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutor'd youth,
Unlearned in the world's false subtleties.
11.02.2005
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When my love swears that she is made of truth,I do believe her though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutor'd youth,
Unlearned in the world's false subtleties.
Sonnet CXXXVII by William Shakespeare
That they behold, and see not what they see?
They know what beauty is, see where it lies,
Yet what the best is take the worst to be.
11.02.2005
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Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes,That they behold, and see not what they see?
They know what beauty is, see where it lies,
Yet what the best is take the worst to be.
Sonnet CXXXVI by William Shakespeare
Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy 'Will',
And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there;
Thus far for love, my love-suit, sweet, fulfil.
11.02.2005
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If thy soul check thee that I come so near, Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy 'Will',
And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there;
Thus far for love, my love-suit, sweet, fulfil.
Sonnet CXXXII by William Shakespeare
Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain,
Have put on black and loving mourners be,
Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.
11.02.2005
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Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me,Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain,
Have put on black and loving mourners be,
Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.
Sonnet CXXXV by William Shakespeare
And 'Will' to boot, and 'Will' in over-plus;
More than enough am I that vex'd thee still,
To thy sweet will making addition thus.
11.02.2005
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Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy 'Will,'And 'Will' to boot, and 'Will' in over-plus;
More than enough am I that vex'd thee still,
To thy sweet will making addition thus.
Sonnet CXXXIV by William Shakespeare
And I my self am mortgag'd to thy will,
Myself I'll forfeit, so that other mine
Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still:
11.02.2005
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So, now I have confess'd that he is thine,And I my self am mortgag'd to thy will,
Myself I'll forfeit, so that other mine
Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still:
Sonnet CXXXIII by William Shakespeare
For that deep wound it gives my friend and me!
Is't not enough to torture me alone,
But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be?
11.02.2005
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Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groanFor that deep wound it gives my friend and me!
Is't not enough to torture me alone,
But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be?
Sonnet CXXXI by William Shakespeare
As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel;
For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart
Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.
11.02.2005
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Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art, As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel;
For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart
Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.
Sonnet CXXX by William Shakespeare
Coral is far more red, than her lips red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
11.02.2005
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My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;Coral is far more red, than her lips red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
Sonnet CXXIX by William Shakespeare
Is lust in action: and till action, lust
Is perjur'd, murderous, bloody, full of blame,
Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust;
11.02.2005
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The expense of spirit in a waste of shameIs lust in action: and till action, lust
Is perjur'd, murderous, bloody, full of blame,
Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust;
Sonnet CXXVIII by William Shakespeare
Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
With thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway'st
The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,
11.02.2005
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How oft when thou, my music, music play'st,Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
With thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway'st
The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,
Sonnet CXXVII by William Shakespeare
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:
11.02.2005
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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:
Sonnet CXXVI by William Shakespeare
Dost hold Time's fickle glass, his fickle hour;
Who hast by waning grown, and therein show'st
Thy lovers withering, as thy sweet self grow'st.
11.02.2005
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O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy powerDost hold Time's fickle glass, his fickle hour;
Who hast by waning grown, and therein show'st
Thy lovers withering, as thy sweet self grow'st.
Sonnet CXXV by William Shakespeare
With my extern the outward honouring,
Or laid great bases for eternity,
Which proves more short than waste or ruining?
11.02.2005
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Were't aught to me I bore the canopy,With my extern the outward honouring,
Or laid great bases for eternity,
Which proves more short than waste or ruining?
Sonnet CXXIV by William Shakespeare
It might for Fortune's bastard be unfather'd,
As subject to Time's love or to Time's hate,
Weeds among weeds, or flowers with flowers gather'd.
11.02.2005
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If my dear love were but the child of state,It might for Fortune's bastard be unfather'd,
As subject to Time's love or to Time's hate,
Weeds among weeds, or flowers with flowers gather'd.
Sonnet CXXI by William Shakespeare
When not to be receives reproach of being;
And the just pleasure lost, which is so deem'd
Not by our feeling, but by others' seeing:
11.02.2005
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'Tis better to be vile than vile esteem'd,When not to be receives reproach of being;
And the just pleasure lost, which is so deem'd
Not by our feeling, but by others' seeing:
Sonnet CXXIII by William Shakespeare
Thy pyramids built up with newer might
To me are nothing novel, nothing strange;
They are but dressings of a former sight.
11.02.2005
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No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change:Thy pyramids built up with newer might
To me are nothing novel, nothing strange;
They are but dressings of a former sight.
Sonnet CXXII by William Shakespeare
Full character'd with lasting memory,
Which shall above that idle rank remain,
Beyond all date; even to eternity:
11.02.2005
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Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brainFull character'd with lasting memory,
Which shall above that idle rank remain,
Beyond all date; even to eternity:
Sonnet CXX by William Shakespeare
And for that sorrow, which I then did feel,
Needs must I under my transgression bow,
Unless my nerves were brass or hammer'd steel.
10.02.2005
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That you were once unkind befriends me now,And for that sorrow, which I then did feel,
Needs must I under my transgression bow,
Unless my nerves were brass or hammer'd steel.
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