#English #XVICentury #XVIICentury
A woman’s face with Nature’s own… Hast thou, the master-mistress of… A woman’s gentle heart, but not ac… With shifting change, as is false… An eye more bright than theirs, le…
Then let not winter’s ragged hand… In thee thy summer, ere thou be di… Make sweet some vial; treasure tho… With beauty’s treasure ere it be s… That use is not forbidden usury,
Love is too young to know what con… Yet who knows not conscience is bo… Then, gentle cheater, urge not my… Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet… For, thou betraying me, I do betr…
O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy… Dost hold Time’s fickle glass his… Who hast by waning grown, and ther… Thy lovers withering, as thy sweet… If Nature, sovereign mistress ove…
Mine eye and heart are at a mortal… How to divide the conquest of thy… Mine eye my heart thy picture’s si… My heart mine eye the freedom of t… My heart doth plead that thou in h…
Why didst thou promise such a beau… And make me travel forth without m… To let base clouds o’ertake me in… Hiding thy brav’ry in their rotten… ’Tis not enough that through the c…
All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely p… They have their exits and their en… And one man in his time plays many… His acts being seven ages. At fir…
Some glory in their birth, some in… Some in their wealth, some in thei… Some in their garments, though new… Some in their hawks and hounds, so… And every humour hath his adjunct…
Be wise as thou art cruel; do not… My tongue-tied patience with too m… Lest sorrow lend me words and word… The manner of my pity-wanting pain… If I might teach thee wit, better…
When I do count the clock that te… And see the brave day sunk in hide… When I behold the violet past pri… And sable curls all silver’d o’er… When lofty trees I see barren of…
Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note Unto the sweet bird’s throat, Come hither, come hither, come hit…
THAT time of year thou may’st in… When yellow leaves, or none, or fe… Upon those boughs which shake agai… Bare ruin’d choirs where late the… In me thou see’st the twilight of…
Shall I compare thee to a summer’… Thou art more lovely and more temp… Rough winds do shake the darling b… And summer’s lease hath all too sh… Sometime too hot the eye of heaven…
Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain tops that freeze, Bow themselves, when he did sing: To his music plants and flowers Ever sprung; as sun and showers
The forward violet thus did I chi… Sweet thief, whence didst thou ste… If not from my love’s breath? The… Which on thy soft cheek for comple… In my love’s veins thou hast too g…