Shakespeare’s sonnets

IV. Unthrifty loveliness why dost thou spend Upon thy self thy beauty’s legacy? Nature’s bequest gives nothing, but doth lend, And being frank she lends to those are free: Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse The bounteous largess given thee to give? Profitless usurer, why dost thou use So [Read more…]

III. Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest Now is the time that face should form another, Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother. For where is she so fair whose uneared womb Disdains the tillage of thy [Read more…]

II. When forty winters shall beseige thy brow, And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field, Thy youth’s proud livery, so gazed on now Will be a totter’d weed, of small worth held: Then being ask’d, where all thy beauty lies, Where all the treasure of thy lusty days, To [Read more…]