#EnglishWriters
As an unperfect actor on the stage Who with his fear is put besides h… Or some fierce thing replete with… Whose strength’s abundance weakens… So I, for fear of trust, forget t…
Thy gift, thy tables, are within m… Full charactered with lasting memo… Which shall above that idle rank r… Beyond all date even to eternity— Or at the least, so long as brain…
What is your substance, whereof ar… That millions of strange shadows o… Since every one hath, every one, o… And you, but one, can every shadow… Describe Adonis, and the counterf…
Shall I compare thee to a summer’… Thou art more lovely and more temp… Rough winds do shake the darling b… And summer’s lease hath all too sh… Sometime too hot the eye of heaven…
No more be grieved at that which t… Roses have thorns, and silver foun… Clouds and eclipses stain both moo… And loathsome canker lives in swee… All men make faults, and even I i…
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…
’TIS better to be vile than vile… When not to be receives reproach o… And the just pleasure lost, which… Not by our feeling, but by others’… For why should others’ false adult…
Like as to make our appetite more… With eager compounds we our palate… As to prevent our maladies unseen, We sicken to shun sickness when we… Even so being full of your ne’er-c…
Lo, as a careful housewife runs to… One of her feather’d creatures bro… Sets down her babe, and makes all… In pursuit of the thing she would… Whilst her neglected child holds h…
How like a winter hath my absence… From thee, the pleasure of the fle… What freezings have I felt, what… What old December’s bareness ever… And yet this time remov’d was summ…
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
Let me confess that we two must be… Although our undivided loves are o… So shall those blots that do with… Without thy help, by me be borne a… In our two loves there is but one…
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…
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’…
URNS and odours bring away! Vapours, sighs, darken the day! Our dole more deadly looks than dy… Balms and gums and heavy cheers… Sacred vials fill’d with tears,
