#EnglishWriters
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…
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 that is best paint… For through the painter must you s…
When in the chronicle of wasted ti… I see descriptions of the fairest… And beauty making beautiful old rh… In praise of ladies dead, and love… Then, in the blazon of sweet beaut…
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, call not me to justify the wron… That thy unkindness lays upon my h… Wound me not with thine eye but wi… Use power with power, and slay me… Tell me thou lov’st elsewhere, but…
My mistress’ eyes are nothing like… Coral is far more red than her lip… If snow be white, why then her bre… If hairs be wires, black wires gro… I have seen roses damasked, red an…
If thou survive my well-contented… When that churl Death my bones wi… And shalt by fortune once more re-… These poor rude lines of thy decea… Compare them with the bett’ring of…
If thy soul cheque thee that I co… Swear to thy blind soul that I wa… And will, thy soul knows, is admit… Thus far for love my love-suit, sw… 'Will’ will fulfil the treasure of…
I grant thou wert not married to m… And therefore mayst without attain… The dedicated words which writers… Of their fair subject, blessing ev… Thou art as fair in knowledge as i…
From fairest creatures we desire i… That thereby beauty’s rose might n… But as the riper should by time de… His tender heir might bear his mem… But thou contracted to thine own b…
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…
In faith, I do not love thee with… For they in thee a thousand errors… But 'tis my heart that loves what… Who in despite of view is pleased… Nor are mine cars with thy tongue’…
Love is my sin and thy dear virtue… Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful… O, but with mine compare thou thin… And thou shalt find it merits not… Or, if it do, not from those lips…
If music be the food of love, play… Give me excess of it, that, surfei… The appetite may sicken, and so di… That strain again! it had a dying… O, it came o’er my ear like the sw…
Devouring Time blunt thou the lio… And make the earth devour her own… Pluck the keen teeth from the fier… And burn the long-lived phoenix, i… Make glad and sorry seasons as tho…