Court’sied when you have, and kiss’d,–
The wild waves whist,–
Foot it featly here and there;
And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.
Hark, hark!
Bow, wow,
The watch-dogs bark:
Bow, wow.
Hark, hark! I hear
The strain of strutting chanticleer
Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow!
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Sonnet 116: Let Me Not To The Marriage Of True Minds by William Shakespeare
Let me not to the marriage of true mindsAdmit impediments. Love is not loveWhich alters when it alteration finds,Or bends with the remover to remove.O no, it is an ever-fixèd markThat looks on tempests and is never shaken;It is the star to every wand’ring bark,Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.Love’s not Time’s fool,…
Is it for fear to wet a widow’s eye,
Ah, if thou issueless shalt hap to die,The world will wail thee like a makeless wife.The world will be thy widow and still weep,That thou no form of thee hast left behind,When every private widow well may keep,By children’s eyes, her husband’s shape in mind.Look what an unthrift in the world doth spendShifts but his…
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,And with old woes new wail my dear times’ waste;Then can I drown an eye, unus’d to flow,For precious friends hid in death’s dateless night,And weep afresh love’s long since cancell’d woe,And moan the expense of many a vanish’d sight:Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,And…
As an unperfect actor on the stage
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart,So I, for fear of trust, forget to sayThe perfect ceremony of love’s rite,And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay,O’ercharged with burden of mine own love’s might.O, let my books be then the eloquenceAnd dumb presagers of my speaking…
Sonnet Lix by William Shakespeare
If there be nothing new, but that which isHath been before, how are our brains beguiled,Which, labouring for invention, bear amissThe second burden of a former child!O, that record could with a backward look,Even of five hundred courses of the sun,Show me your image in some antique book,Since mind at first in character was done!That…
Or I shall live your epitaph to make,
From hence your memory death cannot take,Although in me each part will be forgotten.Your name from hence immortal life shall have,Though I, once gone, to all the world must die;The earth can yield me but a common grave,When you entombèd in men’s eyes shall lie.Your monument shall be my gentle verse,Which eyes not yet created…