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absence addressed adds appears bear beauty better compares conjectures connection corrected dark dead dear death dedication desire dost doth Dowden edition explains expressed eyes face fair false faults fear give grace grow hand hast hate hath heart hold hope keep kind leave less live look love's Malone meaning mind Muse nature never night painted passion past perhaps person play poems poet poor praise printed proud prove quarto quotes reason reference remarks rhyme Rich seems sense Shakspere Shakspere's Sonnets soul speak spirit Steevens suggests summer sweet tell thee thine things thou art thought thyself Time's tongue true truth verse woman worth write written young youth
Strana 56 - 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...
Strana 82 - That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect, For slander's mark was ever yet the fair; The ornament of beauty is suspect, A crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air. So thou be good, slander doth but approve Thy worth the greater, being woo'd of time; For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love, And thou present'st a pure unstained prime.
Strana 178 - When my love swears that she is made of truth I do believe her, though I know she lies, That she might think me some untutor'd youth, Unlearned in the world's false subtleties. Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young, Although she knows my days are past the best, Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue; On both sides thus is simple truth suppress'd.
Strana 61 - Do in consent shake hands to torture me ; The one by toil, the other to complain How far I toil, still farther off from thee. I tell the day, to please him thou art bright And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven: So flatter I the swart-complexion'cl night, When sparkling stars twire not thou gild'st the even.
Strana 96 - 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.
Strana 48 - Proving his beauty by succession thine! This were to be new made when thou art old, And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.
Strana 111 - To kiss the tender inward of thy hand, Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap, At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand To be so tickled, they would change their state And situation with those dancing chips, O'er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait, Making dead wood more blest than living lips. Since saucy jacks so happy are in this, Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.
Strana 60 - Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed, The dear repose for limbs with travel tired; But then begins a journey in my head, To work my mind, when body's work's expired: For then my thoughts, from far where I abide, Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee, And keep my drooping eyelids open wide...
Strana 74 - The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour, which doth in it live. The canker blooms have full as deep a dye As the perfumed tincture of the roses. Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly When summer's breath their masked buds discloses: But, for their virtue only is their show, They live unwoo'd, and unrespected fade; Die to themselves.