What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Acheson admirable allusion Athena Oxoniensis Aubrey beauty's Ben Jonson better Chandos Portrait character Comedy Dark Lady dead dear death dedicated doth Earl of Essex Earl of Southampton fair false faults fear Florio Fulman gentle Gerald Massey give grace Group hast hate hath heart heaven Henry Herbert honour Jonson King live London look Lord Southampton love's Love's Labour's Lost Majesty mayst mind mistress Muse never night Oxford painting patron Pembroke plays poems poet poet's praise printed published Queen rich Samuel Daniel seems Shake shalt Sir John Sir Sidney Lee Sir William d'Avenant sonnets soul speak spirit Stratford summer's thine eyes things Thorpe Thorpe's thou art thou dost thought thy beauty thy love thy sweet thyself Time's tongue true truth Venus and Adonis verse Warwickshire Welbeck Abbey William Shakespeare writ write written youth
Page 176 - 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...
Page 177 - 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.
Page 175 - tis true, I have gone here and there, And made myself a motley to the view, Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear, Made old offences of affections new.
Page 39 - And the sad augurs mock their own presage; Incertainties now crown themselves assured, And peace proclaims olives of endless age. Now with the drops of this most balmy time My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes, Since, spite of him, I'll live in this poor rhyme, While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes: And thou in this shalt find thy monument, When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent.
Page 147 - 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 possessed, Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope...
Page 193 - 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.
Page 78 - Was it the proud full sail of his great verse, Bound for the prize of all too precious you, That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse, Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew? Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead?
Page 132 - When lofty trees I see barren of leaves, Which erst from heat did canopy the herd, And summer's green all girded up in sheaves, Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard, Then of thy beauty do I question make, That thou among the wastes of time must go...