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Sonnet 43 a touching love poem by william shakespeare

Truth may seem but cannot be; Beauty brag but 'tis not she; Truth and beauty buried be. To this urn let those repair That are either true or fair; For these dead birds sigh a prayer.

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; I grant I never saw a goddess go; My mistress when she walks treads on the ground. And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare. Sonnet 55 Not marble, nor the gilded monuments Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme; But you shall shine more bright in these contents Than unswept stone, besmear'd with sluttish time.

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When wasteful war shall statues overturn, And broils root out the work of masonry, Nor Mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn The living record of your memory. So, till the judgment that yourself arise, You live in this, and dwell in lovers' eyes. Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

The scepter, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust. Fear no more the lightning flash, Nor the 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!

Seven of William Shakespeare's best poems

Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: Then, heigh-ho, the holly! This life is most jolly.

  1. The scepter, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust.
  2. Then, heigh-ho, the holly!
  3. What he beheld, on that he firmly doted, And in his will his willful eye he tired. This life is most jolly.
  4. All lovers young, all lovers must Consign to thee, and come to dust.
  5. And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, That dost not bite so nigh As benefits forgot: Though thou the waters warp, Thy sting is not so sharp As friend remembered not. Without the bed her other fair hand was, On the green coverlet, whose perfect white Showed like an April daisy on the grass, With pearly sweat resembling dew of night.

Her eyes, like marigolds, had sheathed their light, And canopied in darkness sweetly lay Till they might open to adorn the day. Her hair like golden threads played with her breath O modest wantons, wanton modesty! Each in her sleep themselves so beautify As if between them twain there were no strife, But that life lived in death, and death in life.

These worlds in Tarquin new ambition bred, Who like a foul usurper went about From this fair throne to heave the owner out. What could he see but mightily he noted? What did he note but strongly he desired? What he beheld, on that he firmly doted, And in his will his willful eye he tired.

With more than admiration he admired Her azure veins, her alabaster skin, Her coral lips, her snow-white dimpled chin. And they, like straggling slaves for pillage fighting, Obdurate vassals fell exploits effecting. Anon his beating heart, alarum striking, Gives the hot charge and bids them do their liking.

His drumming heart cheers up his burning eye, His eye commends the leading to his hand; His hand, as proud of such a dignity, Smoking with pride, marched on to make his stand On her bare breast, the heart of all her land, Whose ranks of blue veins, as his hand did scale, Left their round turrets destitute and pale. They, mustering to the quiet cabinet Where their dear governess and lady lies, Do tell her she is dreadfully beset And fright her with confusion of their cries.

She, much amazed, breaks ope her locked-up eyes, Who, peeping forth this tumult to behold, Are by his flaming torch dimmed and controlled. Imagine her as one in dead of night From forth dull sleep by dreadful fancy waking, That thinks she hath beheld some ghastly sprite, Whose grim aspect sets every joint a-shaking.

  • Get an answer for 'summarize sonnet 43 by elizabeth barrett browning' and find homework help for other sonnet 43 questions at enotes;
  • These worlds in Tarquin new ambition bred, Who like a foul usurper went about From this fair throne to heave the owner out;
  • With more than admiration he admired Her azure veins, her alabaster skin, Her coral lips, her snow-white dimpled chin;
  • Sonnet 43 When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see, For all the day they view things unrespected; But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee, And darkly bright are bright in dark directed.

Wrapped and confounded in a thousand fears, Like to a new-killed bird she trembling lies. She dares not look; yet, winking, there appears Quick-shifting antics ugly in her eyes.

  • When wasteful war shall statues overturn, And broils root out the work of masonry, Nor Mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn The living record of your memory;
  • What did he note but strongly he desired?

His hand, that yet remains upon her breast Rude ram, to batter such an ivory wall! May feel her heart poor citizen distressed, Wounding itself to death, rise up and fall, Beating her bulk, that his hand shakes withal. Sonnet 43 When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see, For all the day they view things unrespected; But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee, And darkly bright are bright in dark directed.

Seven of William Shakespeare's best poems

Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright, 5 How would thy shadow's form form happy show To the clear day with thy much clearer light, When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so! How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made By looking on thee in the living day, 10 When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!

All days are nights to see till I see thee, And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me. Seven of William Shakespeare's best poems Read more: