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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 LVII Like As the Lute
Like as the lute that joys or else dislikes As in his art that plays upon the same, So sounds my Muse according as she strikes On my heart strings high tun'd unto her fame Her touch doth cause the warble of the sound Which here I yield i...
Sonnet XLVI Let others sing of knights and paladines
VI Let others sing of knights and paladines In aged accents and untimely words; Paint shadows in imaginary lines Which well the reach of their high wits records: But I must sing of thee, and those fair eyes Authentic shall my verse in time to come...
Sonnet XV If That a Loyal Heart
If that a loyal heart and faith unfeign'd, If a sweet languish with a chaste desire, If hunger-starven thought so long retain'd, Fed but with smoke, and cherished but with fire,
Sonnet XLIII Thou Canst Not Die
Thou canst not die whilst any zeal abound In feeling hearts that can conceive these lines; Though thou a Laura hast no Petrarch found, In base attire, yet clearly Beauty shines And I, though born in a colder clime,
