But ’tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who in despite of view is pleased to dote;
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Sonnet Cxxxv by William Shakespeare
Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy ‘Will,’And ‘Will’ to boot, and ‘Will’ in overplus;More than enough am I that vex thee still,To thy sweet will making addition thus.Wilt thou, whose will is large and spacious,Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine?Shall will in others seem right gracious,And in my will no fair…
Sonnet 74: But Be Contented When That Fell Arrest by William Shakespeare
But be contented when that fell arrestWithout all bail shall carry me away;My life hath in this line some interest,Which for memorial still with thee shall stay.When thou reviewest this, thou dost reviewThe very part was consecrate to thee,The earth can have but earth, which is his due;My spirit is thine the better part of…
Sonnet 59: If There Be Nothing New, But That Which Is by William Shakespeare
If there be nothing new, but that which isHath been before, how are our brains beguiled,Which, labouring for invention bear amisThe second burthen 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…
When icicles hang by the wall
And Tom bears logs into the hall,And milk comes frozen home in pail,When Blood is nipped and ways be foul,Then nightly sings the staring owl,Tu-who;Tu-whit, tu-who: a merry note,While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.When all aloud the wind doth blow,And coughing drowns the parson’s saw,And birds sit brooding in the snow,And Marian’s nose looks…
When I consider everything that grows
That this huge stage presenteth nought but showsWhereon the stars in secret influence comment;When I perceive that men as plants increase,Cheered and check’d even by the selfsame sky,Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,And wear their brave state out of memory;Then the conceit of this inconstant staySets you most rich in youth before my…
How oft, when thou, my music, music play’st,
With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway’stThe wiry concord that mine ear confounds,Do I envy those jacks that nimble leapTo kiss the tender inward of thy hand,Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,At the wood’s boldness by thee blushing stand!To be so tickled, they would change their stateAnd situation with those dancing…
But ’tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who in despite of view is pleased to dote.
Nor are mine cars with thy tongue’s tune delighted,
Nor tender feeling to base touches prone,
Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
To any sensual feast with thee alone;
But my five wits, nor my five senses can
Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
Who leaves unswayed the likeness of a man,
Thy proud heart’s slave and vassal wretch to be.
Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
That she that makes me sin awards me pain.
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My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still,
Reserve their character with golden quill,And precious phrase by all the Muses filed.I think good thoughts, whilst other write good words,And like unlettered clerk still cry ‘Amen’To every hymn that able spirit affordsIn polished form of well-refinèd pen.Hearing you praised, I say ”Tis so, ’tis true,’And to the most of praise add something more;But that…
Sonnets Xxx: When To The Sessions Of Sweet Silent Thought by William Shakespeare
When to the sessions of sweet silent thoughtI summon up remembrance of things past,I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,And with old woes new wail my dear time’s 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…
Sonnet 47: Betwixt Mine Eye And Heart A League Is Took by William Shakespeare
Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took,And each doth good turns now unto the other,When that mine eye is famished for a look,Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother,With my love’s picture then my eye doth feastAnd to the painted banquet bids my heart;Another time mine eye is my heart’s guest,And…
O, lest the world should task you to recite
After my death, dear love, forget me quite,For you in me can nothing worthy prove;Unless you would devise some virtuous lie,To do more for me than mine own desert,And hang more praise upon deceased IThan niggard truth would willingly impart:O, lest your true love may seem false in this,That you for love speak well of…
Sonnet Ci by William Shakespeare
O truant Muse, what shall be thy amendsFor thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed?Both truth and beauty on my love depends;So dost thou too, and therein dignified.Make answer, Muse: wilt thou not haply say‘Truth needs no colour, with his colour fix’d;Beauty no pencil, beauty’s truth to lay;But best is best, if never intermix’d?’Because he…
Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day,
To let base clouds o’ertake me in my way,Hiding thy bravery in their rotten smoke?‘Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break,To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face,For no man well of such a salve can speakThat heals the wound and cures not the disgrace:Nor can thy shame give physic to my grief;Though…