#EnglishWriters
The little love god lying once asl… Laid by his side his heart-inflami… Whilst many nymphs that vowed chas… Came tripping by; but in her maide… The fairest votary took up that fi…
But be contented when that fell ar… Without all bail shall carry me aw… My life hath in this line some int… Which for memorial still with thee… When thou reviewest this, thou dos…
Beshrew that heart that makes my h… For that deep wound it gives my fr… Is’t not enough to torture me alon… But slave to slavery my sweet’st f… Me from my self thy cruel eye hath…
Two loves I have, of comfort and… Which like two spirits do suggest… The better angel is a man right fa… The worser spirit a woman coloured… To win me soon to hell, my female…
How oft, when thou, my music, musi… Upon that blessèd wood whose motio… With thy sweet fingers when thou g… The wiry concord that mine ear con… Do I envy those jacks that nimble…
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…
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…
All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely p… They have their exits and their en… And one man in his time plays many… His acts being seven ages. At fir…
Then hate me when thou wilt; if ev… Now, while the world is bent my de… join with the spite of fortune, ma… And do not drop in for an after-lo… Ah, do not, when my heart hath 'sc…
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…
So is it not with me as with that… Stirred by a painted beauty to his… Who heaven it self for ornament do… And every fair with his fair doth… Making a couplement of proud compa…
Look in thy glass, and tell the fa… Now is the time that face should f… Whose fresh repair if now thou not… Thou dost beguile the world, unble… For where is she so fair whose une…
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…
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…
TELL me where is Fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. It is engender’d in the eyes,