• Shakespeare's Sonnet CVI (Sonnet 106): "When in the chronicle of wasted time"

    Sonnet CVI

    When in the chronicle of wasted time

    I see descriptions of the fairest wights,

    And beauty making beautiful old rhyme

    In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights,

    Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best,

    Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,

    I see their antique pen would have express'd

    Even such a beauty as you master now.

    So all their praises are but prophecies

    Of this our time, all you prefiguring;

    And, for they look'd but with divining eyes,

    They had not skill enough your worth to sing:

    For we, which now behold these present days,

    Had eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.

    1m - Oct 1, 2021
  • Shakespeare's Sonnet LV (Sonnet 55): "Not marble, nor the gilded monuments"

    Sonnet LV

    Not marble, nor the gilded monuments

    Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme;

    But you shall shine more bright in these contents

    Than unswept stone besmear'd with sluttish time.

    When wasteful war shall statues overturn,

    And broils root out the work of masonry,

    Nor Mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn

    The living record of your memory.

    'Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity

    Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room

    Even in the eyes of all posterity

    That wear this world out to the ending doom.

    So, till the judgment that yourself arise,

    You live in this, and dwell in lover's eyes.

    1m - Sep 30, 2021
  • Shakespeare's Sonnet XVII (Sonnet 17): "Who will believe my verse in time to come"

    Sonnet XVII

    Who will believe my verse in time to come,

    If it were fill'd with your most high deserts?

    Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tomb

    Which hides your life and shows not half your parts.

    If I could write the beauty of your eyes

    And in fresh numbers number all your graces,

    The age to come would say 'This poet lies:

    Such heavenly touches ne'er touch'd earthly faces.'

    So should my papers yellow'd with their age

    Be scorn'd like old men of less truth than tongue,

    And your true rights be term'd a poet's rage

    And stretched metre of an antique song:

    But were some child of yours alive that time,

    You should live twice; in it and in my rhyme.

    1m - Sep 29, 2021
  • Shakespeare's Sonnet XXXIII (Sonnet 33): "Full many a glorious morning have I seen"

    Sonnet XXXIII

    Full many a glorious morning have I seen

    Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye,

    Kissing with golden face the meadows green,

    Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy;

    Anon permit the basest clouds to ride

    With ugly rack on his celestial face,

    And from the forlorn world his visage hide,

    Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace:

    Even so my sun one early morn did shine

    With all triumphant splendor on my brow;

    But out, alack! he was but one hour mine;

    The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now.

    Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth;

    Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun staineth.

    1m - Sep 28, 2021
  • Shakespeare's Sonnet LIII (Sonnet 53): "What is your substance, whereof are you made"

    Sonnet LIII

    What is your substance, whereof are you made,

    That millions of strange shadows on you tend?

    Since every one hath, every one, one shade,

    And you, but one, can every shadow lend.

    Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit

    Is poorly imitated after you;

    On Helen's cheek all art of beauty set,

    And you in Grecian tires are painted new:

    Speak of the spring and foison of the year;

    The one doth shadow of your beauty show,

    The other as your bounty doth appear;

    And you in every blessed shape we know.

    In all external grace you have some part,

    But you like none, none you, for constant heart.

    1m - Sep 27, 2021
  • Shakespeare's Sonnet XLIX (Sonnet 49): "Against that time, if ever that time come"

    Sonnet XLIX (Sonnet 49)

    Against that time, if ever that time come,

    When I shall see thee frown on my defects,

    When as thy love hath cast his utmost sum,

    Call'd to that audit by advised respects;

    Against that time when thou shalt strangely pass

    And scarcely greet me with that sun thine eye,

    When love, converted from the thing it was,

    Shall reasons find of settled gravity,--

    Against that time do I ensconce me here

    Within the knowledge of mine own desert,

    And this my hand against myself uprear,

    To guard the lawful reasons on thy part:

    To leave poor me thou hast the strength of laws,

    Since why to love I can allege no cause.

    1m - Sep 24, 2021
  • Shakespeare's Sonnet XXVII (Sonnet 27): "Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed"

    Sonnet XXVII

    Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,

    The dear repose for limbs with travel tired;

    But then begins a journey in my head,

    To work my mind, when body's work's expired:

    For then my thoughts, from far where I abide,

    Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,

    And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,

    Looking on darkness which the blind do see

    Save that my soul's imaginary sight

    Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,

    Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night,

    Makes black night beauteous and her old face new.

    Lo! thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind,

    For thee and for myself no quiet find.

    1m - Sep 23, 2021
  • Shakespeare's Sonnet XVIII (Sonnet 18): "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"

    Sonnet XVIII

    Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

    Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

    Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

    And summer's lease hath all too short a date:

    Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

    And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;

    And every fair from fair sometime declines,

    By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;

    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.

    1m - Sep 20, 2021
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