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Sonet (Selected)

By Doris Wood,2014-06-29 19:18
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Sonet (Selected)

     Shall I compare thee to a Summers day

    Shall I compare thee to a Summers day?

    Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May. And summers lease hath all too short and date. Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines. And often is his gold complexion dimmd.

    And every fair from fair sometime declines. By chance or natures changing course untrimmd.

    But thy eternal summer shall not fade. Nor lose possession of that fair thou owst.

    Nor shall Death drag thou wandrest in his shade,

    When in eternal lines to time thou growst.

    So long as men can breathe or eyes can see. So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

     True love never alters and it lasts long Let me not the marriage of true minds Admit impediments; love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds. Or bends with the remover to remove. O, no, it is an ever-fixed mark

    That looks on tempests and is never shaken It is the star to every wandring bark,

    Within his bending sickles 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.

You are the morning lark

    When in disgrace with Fortune and mens 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, Featurd like him, like him with friends poessessd.

    Desiring this mans 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 lark at break of day arising from sullen earth )sings hymns at heavens gate. For thy sweet love remembred such wealth brings, That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

Friend, you dissolve my pain

    When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sign the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear timess waste;

    The can I drown an eye (unusd to flow)

    For precious friends hid in deaths dateless night,

    And weep afresh loves long since cancelld woe,

    And moan thexpense of many a vanishd sight;

    Then can I grieve at grIevances foregone, And heavily from woe to woe tell oer

    The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan, Which I new pay as if not paid before: But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restord, and sorrows end.

Breif time but enduring poetry

    Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end, Each changing place with that which goes before, In sequent toil all forwards do contend. Nativity, once in the main of light, Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crownd,

    Crooked eclipses against his glory fight, And time that gave doth now his gift confound. Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth, And delves the parallels in beautys brow,

    Feeds on the rarities of natures truth,

    And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow: And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand, Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

For my love, I live

    Tird with all these , for restful death I cry As to behold desert a beggar born,

    And needy nothing trimmd in jollity,

    And purest faith unhappily forsworn, And gilded honor shamefully misplacd,

    And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted, And right perfection wrongfully disgracd,

    And art made tongue-tied by authority, And folly (doctor-like)controlling skill, And captive good attending captain ill:

Tird with all these ,from these would I be gone

Save that to die, I leave my love alone.

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