#EnglishWriters
Let me not to the marriage of true… Admit impediments. Love is not lo… Which alters when it alteration fi… Or bends with the remover to remov… O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
In loving thee thou know’st I am… But thou art twice forsworn to me… In act thy bed-vow broke and new f… In vowing new hate after new love… But why of two oaths’ breach do I…
HARK! hark! the lark at heaven’s… Â Â Â And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those sprin… Â Â Â On chaliced flowers that lie… And winking Mary-buds begin
O, lest the world should task you… What merit lived in me that you sh… After my death, dear love, forget… For you in me can nothing worthy p… Unless you would devise some virtu…
Not from the stars do I my judgme… And yet methinks I have astronomy… But not to tell of good or evil lu… Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons… Nor can I fortune to brief minute…
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…
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…
O, from what power hast thou this… With insufficiency my heart to swa… To make me give the lie to my true… And swear that brightness doth not… Whence hast thou this becoming of…
What’s in the brain that ink may c… Which hath not figured to thee my… What’s new to speak, what now to r… That may express my love, or thy d… Nothing, sweet boy, but yet, like…
TELL me where is Fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. It is engender’d in the eyes,
That thou art blam’d shall not be… For slander’s mark was ever yet th… The ornament of beauty is suspect, A crow that flies in heaven’s swee… So thou be good, slander doth but…
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…
Thy glass will show thee how thy b… Thy dial how thy precious minutes… These vacant leaves thy mind’s imp… And of this book, this learning ma… The wrinkles which thy glass will…
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…
Say that thou didst forsake me for… And I will comment upon that offe… Speak of my lameness, and I strai… Against thy reasons making no defe… Thou canst not, love, disgrace me…