#EnglishWriters
ROSES, their sharp spines being… Not royal in their smells alone, But in their hue; Maiden pinks, of odour faint, Daisies smell-less, yet most quain…
Full many a glorious morning have… Flatter the mountain-tops with sov… Kissing with golden face the meado… Gilding pale streams with heavenly… Anon permit the basest clouds to r…
Sin of self-love possesseth all mi… And all my soul, and all my every… And for this sin there is no remed… It is so grounded inward in my hea… Methinks no face so gracious is as…
Thou blind fool, Love, what dost… That they behold and see not what… They know what beauty is, see wher… Yet what the best is, take the wor… If eyes corrupt by overpartial loo…
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…
Thy bosom is endeared with all hea… Which I by lacking have supposed… And there reigns Love, and all Lo… And all those friends which I tho… How many a holy and obsequious tea…
O, that you were your self! But,… No longer yours than you yourself… Against this coming end you should… And your sweet semblance to some o… So should that beauty which you ho…
Your love and pity doth th’ impres… Which vulgar scandal stamped upon… For what care I who calls me well… So you o’ergreen my bad, my good a… You are my all the world, and I m…
Mine eye hath played the painter a… Thy beauty’s form in table of my h… My body is the frame wherein 'tis… And perspective it is best painter… For through the painter must you s…
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…
Let those who are in favour with t… Of public honour and proud titles… Whilst I, whom fortune of such tr… Unlooked for joy in that I honour… Great princes’ favourites their fa…
Since brass, nor stone, nor earth,… But sad mortality o’er—sways their… How with this rage shall beauty ho… Whose action is no stronger than a… O, how shall summer’s honey breath…
Those parts of thee that the world… Want nothing that the thought of h… All tongues, the voice of souls, g… Utt’ring bare truth, even so as fo… Thy outward thus with outward prai…
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
In the old age black was not count… Or if it were, it bore not beauty’… But now is black beauty’s successi… And beauty slandered with a bastar… For since each hand hath put on N…