Pages

Monday 18 April 2011

❤ ℙї¢ε﹩ ☺ḟ ℒ☮Ⅴℰ‼ ❤

❤ ℙї¢ε﹩ ☺ḟ ℒ☮Ⅴℰ‼ ❤


Sonnet CXVI by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616)

Let me not to the marriage of true minds 

Admit impediments. Love is not love, 

Which alters when it alteration finds, 
Or bends with the remover to remove. 
Oh, no! it is an ever-fixed mark 
That looks on tempests.. and is never shaken. 
It is the star to every wandering bark 
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. 
Love is not Time's fool, though rosy 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.







My Love Is Like to Ice by Edmund Spenser (1552 - 1599)




My love is like to ice, and I to fire: 


How come it then that this her cold is so great 

Is not dissolved through my so hot desire, 

But harder grows the more I her entreat? 

Or how comes it that my exceeding heat 
Is not allayed by her heart-frozen cold, 
But that I burn much more in boiling sweat, 
And feel my flames augmented manifold? 
What more miraculous thing may be told, 
That fire, which is congealed with senseless cold, 
Should kindle fire by wonderful device? 
Such is the power of love in gentle mind, 

That it can alter all the course of kind.  


No comments:

Post a Comment