The Vale Shakespeare, Svazek 36Hacon & Ricketts, 1903 |
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alchemy art thou bear beauteous beauty's behold blessed blood breast breath bright canst cheek chide chronicle of wasted churl cruel dead dear love death decay deeds dost thou earth eternal eye doth face false faults fear flowers forsworn foul gainst gentle give grace hand hate heaven honour leave live look lov'st love thee love's Love's fire LOVER'S COMPLAINT lviii mind mistress Muse night numbers o'er pity pleasure poison'd poor praise pride proud Religious love rose scythe SHAKESPEARE'S SONNETS shame sight soul spirit steal stol'n summer's swear sweet love tears tell thence thine eyes things thou art thou dost thou hast thou mayst thou shalt thou wilt thought thy beauty thy heart thy love thy sweet thy worth thyself Time's tongue true truth usury verse vows waste Whilst xlvii xlvii YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY youth
Oblíbené pasáže
Strana lxx - 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 cxxx - Coral is far more red than her lips' red: If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound...
Strana lii - O how much more doth beauty beauteous seem, By that sweet ornament which truth doth give ! 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...
Strana xxxi - 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 cix - O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide, The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, That did not better for my life provide, Than public means, which public manners breeds. Thence comes it that my name receives a brand, And almost thence my nature is subdued To what it works in, like the dyer's hand...
Strana xxviii - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste...
Strana xix - A woman's face, with nature's own hand painted, Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion ; A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted With shifting change, as is false women's fashion ; An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling, Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth ; A man in hue, all hues in his controlling, Which steals men's eyes, and women's souls amazeth.
Strana xxviii - When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself, and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd, Desiring this man's art and that man's scope...
Strana lxxiii - That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
Strana lxxxv - Farewell ! thou art too dear for my possessing, And like enough thou know'st thy estimate : The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing ; My bonds in thee are all determinate. For how do I hold thee but by thy granting ? And for that riches where is my deserving ? The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting, And so my patent back again is swerving.