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Sonnet 29
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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,
With what I most enjoy contented least,
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state
(Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven`s gate,
For they sweet love remembered such wealth brings,
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
Fear no more the heat o the sun
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Fear no more the heat o the sun,
Nor the furious winter`s rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone, and ta`en thy wages.
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
Fear no more the frown o` the great;
Thou art past the tyrants stroke;
Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the reed is as theoak.
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.
Fear no more the lightning flash,
Nor th` all-dreaded thunder stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finished joy and moan.
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.
No exorciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Nothing ill come near thee!
Quiet consummation have;
And renowned be thy grave!
Ariel`s Song
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Full fathom five thy father lies,
Of his bones are coral made:
Those are pears that were his eyes,
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich, and strange:
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell -
Hark! now i hear them,
Ding-dong bell.
Sonet 18
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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 to short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometimes declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest,
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest;
So long as men can breath, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
'Under the greenwood tree'
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Under the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me,
And turn his merry note
Unto the sweet birds throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.
Who doth ambition shun
And loves to live i' th' sun,
Seeking the food he eats,
And pleased with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.
Sonnet 115
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Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments,love is not love
Which alters when the remover remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixed mark,
that looks on tempests and is never shaken,
It is the star to every wand`ring bark
Whose worth`s unkown,although his height be taken
Love`s not Time`s fool,though rosey lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle`s compass come.
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks
but bears it out even to the edge of doom
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ,nor no man ever loved.
Sonnet 29
***************
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 possesed,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented at least,
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state
(Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven's gate,
For they sweet love remembered such wealth brings,
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
Sonnet 73
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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 ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thoust seest the twiglight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doth taketh away,
Death's second self, that seals up all the rest.
In me thou seest the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the deathbed whereon it must expire,
Consumed with that which it was nourished by.
This thou perceiv'st, which makes they love more strong,
To love that well, which thou must ere leave long.
William Shakespeare
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