Sonnet 75. One day I wrote her name upon the strand, But came the waves and washed it away; Again I wrote it with a second hand,

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Hilda Heather Welch
5 years ago
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1 Sonnet 75 One day I wrote her name upon the strand, But came the waves and washed it away; Again I wrote it with a second hand, But came the tide, and made my pains his prey. Vain man, said she, that doest in vain assay, A mortal thing so to immortalize, For I myself shall like to this decay, And eke my name be wiped out likewise. Not so, quod I, let baser things devise To die in dust, but you shall live by fame: My verse your virtues rare shall eternize, And in the heavens write your glorious name. Where whenas death shall all the world subdue, Our love shall live, and later life renew.

2 Sonnet 29 When, in disgrace with Fortune and men s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, Desiring this man s art, and that man s scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven s gate; For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

3 Sonnet 73 That time of year thou mayest in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruined choirs where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away, Death s second self, that seals up all in rest. In me thou see st the glowing of such fire, That on the ashes of his youth doth lie As the deathbed whereon it must expire, Consumed with that which it was nourished by. This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong, To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

4 Sonnet 116 Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. Oh no! It is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken. It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth s unknown, although his height be taken. Love s not Time s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle s compass come. Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

5 Sonnet 81 Fair is my love, when her fair golden hears With the loose wind the waving chance to mark: Fair when the rose in her red cheeks appears, Or in her eyes the fire of love does spark. Fair when her breast like a rich laden bark With precious merchandise she forth doth lay: Fair when that cloud of pride, which oft doth dark Her goodly light, with smiles she drives away. But fairest she, when so she doth display The gate with pearls and rubies richly dight Through which her words so wise do make their way To bear the message of her gentle spright. The rest be works of nature's wonderment, But this the work of heart's astonishment.

6 Sonnet 61 Blest be the day, and blest the month and year, Season and hour and very moment blest, The lovely land and place where first possessed By two pure eyes I found me prisoner; And blest the first sweet pain, the first most dear, Which burnt my heart when Love came in as guest; And blest the bow, the shafts which shook my breast, And even the wounds which Love delivered there. Blest be the words and voices which filled grove And glen with echoes of my lady's name; The sighs, the tears, the fierce despair of love; And blest the sonnet-sources of my fame; And blest that thought of thoughts which is her own, Of her, her only, of herself alone!

7 Sonnet 134 I find no peace, and all my war is done; I fear and hope; I burn and freeze like ice; I fly above the wind, yet can I not arise; And nought I have, and all the world I seize on; That looseth nor locketh holdeth me in prison And holdeth me not, yet can I 'scape nowise; Nor letteth me live nor die at my device, And yet of death it giveth none occasion. Withouten eyen, I see; and without tongue I plain; I desire to perish, and yet I ask health; I love another, and thus I hate myself; I feed me in sorrow, and laugh in all my pain; Likewise displeaseth me both death and life; And my delight is causer of this strife.

SONNET 130 by William Shakespeare My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips' red; If snow be white, why then

SONNET 130 by William Shakespeare 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