Sonnets: From the Cambridge Text of William Aldis Wright

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DeFau, 1901 - 118 strán (strany)
 

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Strana 230 - When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, And the firm soil win of the watery main, Increasing store with loss, and loss with store ; When I have seen such interchange of state, Or state itself confounded to decay; Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate— That Time will come and take my love away. This thought is as a death, which cannot choose, But weep to have that which it fears to lose.
Strana 213 - I'll read, his for his love." XXXIII Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace.
Strana 244 - Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now; Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross, Join with the spite of fortune...
Strana 195 - From fairest creatures we desire increase, That thereby beauty's rose might never die, But as the riper should by time decease, His tender heir might bear his memory : But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel, Making a famine where abundance lies, Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel. Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament And only herald to the gaudy spring, Within thine own bud buriest thy content And, tender churl, mak'st...
Strana 234 - Lest the wise world should look into your moan, And mock you with me after I am gone.
Strana 228 - gainst his glory fight, And Time that gave doth now his gift confound. Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth, And delves the parallels in beauty's brow, Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth, And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow. And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand, Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.
Strana 234 - No longer mourn for me when I am dead Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell : Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it ; for I love you so That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot If thinking on me then should make you woe.
Strana 204 - So should my papers, yellow'd with their age, Be scorn'd like old men of less truth than tongue, And your true rights be term'da poet's rage And stretched metre of an antique song; But were some child of yours alive that time, You should live twice, — in it and in my rhyme. XVIII. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day ? Thou art more lovely and more temperate...
Strana 243 - ... where is my deserving? The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting, And so my patent back again is swerving. Thyself thou gav'st, thy own worth then not knowing, Or me, to whom thou gav'st it, else mistaking; So thy great gift, upon misprision growing, Comes home again, on better judgment making. Thus have I had thee, as a dream doth flatter, In sleep a king, but waking, no such matter.
Strana 249 - The forward violet thus did I chide : Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells, If not from my love's breath ? The purple pride Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dyed.

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