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William Shakespeare, 1564-1616 [1640], Poems: vvritten by Wil. Shake-speare. Gent (Printed... by Tho. Cotes, and are to be sold by Iohn Benson [etc.], London) [word count] [S11600]. To look up a word in a dictionary, select the word with your mouse and press 'd' on your keyboard.
Bvt wherefore doe not you a mightier way
Make warre upon this bloudy tirant time? And fortifie your selfe in your decay With meanes more blessed then my barren rime? Now stand you on the top of happy houres, And many maiden gardens yet unset, With vertuous wish would beare your living flowers, Much liker then your painted counterfeit: So should the lines of life that life repaire Which this (Times pensell or my pupill pen) Neither in inward worth nor outward faire Can make you live your selfe in eyes of men, To give away your selfe, keeps your selfe still, And you must live drawne by your owne sweet skill. Who will beleeve my verse in time to come If it were fild with your most high deserts? Though yet heaven knowes it is but as a tombe Which hides your life, and showes not halfe your parts: If I could write the beautie of your eyes, And in fresh numbers number all your graces, The age to come would say this Poet lies, Such heavenly touches nere toucht earthly faces. So should my papers (yellowed with their age) Be scorn'd, like old men of lesse truth then tongue, And your true rights be termd a Poets rage, And stretched miter of an Antique song. But were some childe of yours alive that time You should live twise in it, and in my rime.
William Shakespeare, 1564-1616 [1640], Poems: vvritten by Wil. Shake-speare. Gent (Printed... by Tho. Cotes, and are to be sold by Iohn Benson [etc.], London) [word count] [S11600]. |
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