Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimmed; And everyRead More →
Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I’ll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise, Doth ask a drink divine: But might I of jove’s nectar sup, I would notRead More →
I wonder by my troth, what thou and I Did, till we loved ? were we not wean’d till then ? But suck’d on country pleasures, childishly ? Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers’ den ? ‘Twas so ; but this, all pleasures fancies be ; If ever anyRead More →
‘Tis not how witty nor how free, Nor yet how beautiful she be, But how much kind and true to me. Freedom and wit none can confine And beauty like the sun doth shine, But kind and true are only mine. Let others with attention sit To listen, and admireRead More →
To his mistress, objecting to him neither toying or talking You say I love not, ’cause I do not play Still with your curls, and kiss the time away. You blame me, too, because I can’t devise Some sport, to please those babies in your eyes; – By Love’s religion,Read More →
Come, Anthea, know thou this, Love at no time idle is ; Let’s be doing, though we play But at push-pin half the day ; Chains of sweet bents let us make Captive one, or both, to take : In which bondage we will lie, Souls transfusing thus, and die.Read More →
Bid me to live, and I will live Thy Protestant to be, Or bid me love, and I will give A loving heart to thee. A heart as soft, a heart as kind, A heart as sound and free As in the whole world thou canst find, That heart I’llRead More →
Give me more love, or more disdain; The torrid or the frozen zone Bring equal ease unto my pain; The temperate affords me none: Either extreme, of love or hate, Is sweeter than a calm estate. Give me a storm; if it be love, Like Danae in that golden shower,Read More →
No, no, fair heretic, it needs must be But an ill love in me, And worse for thee. For were it in my power, To love thee now this hour More than I did the last ; ‘Twould then so fall, I might not love at all. Love that canRead More →
GO, lovely Rose— Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that ‘s young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts where no menRead More →
