#EnglishWriters
When most I wink, then do mine ey… For all the day they view things u… But when I sleep, in dreams they… And darkly bright are bright in da… Then thou, whose shadow shadows do…
SHALL I compare thee to a Summe… Thou art more lovely and more temp… Rough winds do shake the darling b… And Summer’s lease hath all too s… Sometime too hot the eye of heaven…
How heavy do I journey on the way… When what I seek, my weary travel… Doth teach that case and that repo… “Thus far the miles are measured f… The beast that bears me, tired wit…
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…
Lord of my love, to whom in vassal… Thy merit hath my duty strongly kn… To thee I send this written embas… To witness duty, not to show my wi… Duty so great, which wit so poor a…
That thou hast her, it is not all… And yet it may be said I loved he… That she hath thee is of my wailin… A loss in love that touches me mor… Loving offenders, thus I will exc…
But wherefore do not you a mightie… Make war upon this bloody tyrant,… And fortify your self in your deca… With means more blessèd than my ba… Now stand you on the top of happy…
Weary with toil, I haste me to my… The dear repose for limbs with tra… But then begins a journey in my he… To work my mind, when body’s work’… For then my thoughts, from far whe…
Not marble, nor the gilded monumen… Of princes, shall outlive this pow… But you shall shine more bright in… Than unswept stone besmear’d with… When wasteful war shall statues ov…
Hark! hark! the lark at heaven’s g… And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those sprin… On chalic’d flowers that lies; And winking Mary-buds begin
As a decrepit father takes delight To see his active child do deeds o… So I, made lame by Fortune’s dear… Take all my comfort of thy worth a… For whether beauty, birth, or weal…
Canst thou, O cruel, say I love t… When I against my self with thee… Do I not think on thee when I for… Am of my self, all tyrant, for thy… Who hateth thee that I do call my…
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…
No, Time, thou shalt not boast th… Thy pyramids built up with newer m… To me are nothing novel, nothing s… They are but dressings of a former… Our dates are brief, and therefore…
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…