#EnglishWriters
When to the sessions of sweet sile… I summon up remembrance of things… I sigh the lack of many a thing I… And with old woes new wail my dear… Then can I drown an eye, unus’d t…
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…
Those pretty wrongs that liberty c… When I am sometime absent from th… Thy beauty and thy years full well… For still temptation follows where… Gentle thou art, and therefore to…
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…
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…
Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eye… Nothing of him that doth fade But doth suffer a sea-change
O, how much more doth beauty beaut… By that sweet ornament which truth… The rose looks fair, but fairer we… For that sweet odour, which doth i… The canker blooms have full as dee…
When thou shalt be disposed to set… And place my merit in the eye of s… Upon thy side, against myself I’l… And prove thee virtuous, though th… With mine own weakness being best…
Let the bird of loudest lay, On the sole Arabian tree, Herald sad and trumpet be, To whose sound chaste wings obey. But thou, shrieking harbinger,
THY bosom is endeared with all he… Which I, by lacking, have suppose… And there reigns Love, and all Lo… And all those friends which I tho… How many a holy and obsequious tea…
Who will believe my verse in time… If it were fill’d with your most h… Though yet, heaven knows, it is bu… Which hides your life and shows no… If I could write the beauty of yo…
So oft have I invoked thee for my… And found such fair assistance in… As every alien pen hath got my use… And under thee their poesy dispers… Thine eyes, that taught the dumb o…
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…
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…
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…