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Слушать(AI)Love Is A Sickness
Love is a sickness full of woes, All remedies refusing; A plant that with most cutting grows, Most barren with best using. Why so? More we enjoy it, more it dies; If not enjoy'd, it sighing cries— Heigh ho! Love is a torment of the mind, A tempest everlasting; And Jove hath made it of a kind Not well, nor full nor fasting. Why so? More we enjoy it, more it dies; If not enjoy'd, it sighing cries— Heigh ho!
Samuel Daniel
Samuel Daniel (1562 – 14 October 1619) was an English poet and historian. His work and particularly the format he adopted for sonnets, was refer
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Sonnet VII O Had She Not Been Fair
O had she not been fair and thus unkind, Then had no finger pointed at my lightness; The world had never known what I do find, And clouds obscure had shaded still her brightness
Sonnet XL But Love
But love whilst that thou mayst be lov'd again, Now whilst thy May hath fill'd thy lap with flowers; Now, whilst thy beauty bears without a stain, Now use thy Summer smiles ere Winter lours
Sonnet IV These Plaintive Verses
These plaintive verses, the Posts of my desire, Which haste for succour to her slow regard: Bear not report of any slender fire, Forging a grief to win a fame's reward
Sonnet XVI Happy In Sleep
Happy in sleep, waking content to languish, Embracing clouds by night; in daytime, mourn; All things I loath save her and mine own anguish, Pleas'd in my hurt inured to live forlorn
