studiodobs:
Edmund Spenser, Amoretti (1595)
studiodobs:
Edmund Spenser
studiodobs:
FAYRE eyes, the myrrour of my mazed hart ...
studiodobs:
WHEN I behold that beauties wonderment ...
studiodobs:
The souerayne beauty which I doo admyre ...
studiodobs:
WAS it the worke of nature or of Art?
studiodobs:
New yeare forth looking out of Janus gate ...
studiodobs:
... if Gold, her locks are finest gold on ground ...
studiodobs:
Dark is my day, whyles her fayre light I miss, And dead my life that wants such lively bliss.
studiodobs:
MORE then most faire, full of the liuing fire ...
studiodobs:
Lackyng my loue I go from place to place ...
studiodobs:
One day I wrote her name upon the strand,
studiodobs:
Penelope for her Ulysses' sake, Devised a web her wooers to deceive ...
studiodobs:
Coming to kiss her lips, such grace I found, Me seemed I smelled a garden of sweet flowers ...
studiodobs:
Since I have lacked the comfort of that light ...
studiodobs:
Shakespeare, Sonnets
studiodobs:
William Shakespeare - Sonnet 54, 1609
studiodobs:
William Shakespeare (1564-1616)
studiodobs:
William Shakespeare
studiodobs:
Love, whose month is ever May ...
studiodobs:
Then let not winter's ragged hand deface In thee thy summer, ere thou be distill'd ...
studiodobs:
But flowers distilled, though they with winter meet ...
studiodobs:
When forty winters shall besiege thy brow ...
studiodobs:
Do not swear by the moon ...
studiodobs:
In me thou see'st the twilight of such day, As after sunset fadeth in the west ...
studiodobs:
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night ... When lofty trees I see barren of leaves ...
studiodobs:
Roses have thorns ...
studiodobs:
Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,
studiodobs:
Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,
studiodobs:
My love is like to ice, and I to fire ...
