#EnglishWriters
Let the bird of loudest lay, On the sole Arabian tree, Herald sad and trumpet be, To whose sound chaste wings obey. But thou, shrieking harbinger,
For shame, deny that thou bear’st… Who for thy self art so unproviden… Grant, if thou wilt, thou art belo… But that thou none lov’st is most… For thou art so possessed with mur…
Then hate me when thou wilt; if ev… Now, while the world is bent my de… join with the spite of fortune, ma… And do not drop in for an after-lo… Ah, do not, when my heart hath 'sc…
How can I then return in happy pl… That am debarred the benefit of re… When day’s oppression is not eased… But day by night, and night by day… And each, though enemies to either…
Lo, as a careful housewife runs to… One of her feather’d creatures bro… Sets down her babe, and makes all… In pursuit of the thing she would… Whilst her neglected child holds h…
When forty winters shall besiege t… And dig deep trenches in thy beaut… Thy youth’s proud livery, so gazed… Will be a tatter’d weed, of small… Then being ask’d where all thy bea…
Poor soul, the centre of my sinful… These rebel powers that thee array… Why dost thou pine within and suff… Painting thy outward walls so cost… Why so large cost, having so short…
FROM off a hill whose concave wo… A plaintful story from a sistering… My spirits to attend this double v… And down I laid to list the sad-t… Ere long espied a fickle maid full…
From fairest creatures we desire i… That thereby beauty’s rose might n… But as the riper should by time de… His tender heir might bear his mem… But thou, contracted to thine own…
Shall I compare thee to a summer’… Thou art more lovely and more temp… Rough winds do shake the darling b… And summer’s lease hath all too sh… Sometime too hot the eye of heaven…
Let those who are in favour with t… Of public honour and proud titles… Whilst I, whom fortune of such tr… Unlooked for joy in that I honour… Great princes’ favourites their fa…
ON a day—alack the day!— Love, whose month is ever May, Spied a blossom passing fair Playing in the wanton air: Through the velvet leaves the wind
Some glory in their birth, some in… Some in their wealth, some in thei… Some in their garments, though new… Some in their hawks and hounds, so… And every humour hath his adjunct…
O, how much more doth beauty beaut… By that sweet ornament which truth… The rose looks fair, but fairer we… For that sweet odour, which doth i… The canker blooms have full as dee…
WHEN daisies pied and violets bl…    And lady-smocks all silver-w… And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue    Do paint the meadows with de… The cuckoo then, on every tree,