WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. WHAT'S in the brain that ink may character, Where time and outward form would show it dead. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. O, NEVER say that I was false of heart, Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify! As easy might I from myself depart, As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie : Just to the time, not with the time exchang'd,— Save thou, my rose; in it thou art my all. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. O, FOR my sake do you with fortune chide, The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, Than publick means, which publick manners breeds. Nor double penance, to correct correction. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. SINCE I left you, mine eye is in my mind, Doth part his function, and is partly blind, For it no form delivers to the heart Of bird, of flower, or shape, which it doth latch ; Of his quick objects hath the mind no part, Nor his own vision holds what it doth catch; For if it see the rud'st or gentlest sight, The most sweet favour, or deformed'st creature, The mountain or the sea, the day or night, The crow or dove, it shapes them to your feature: Incapable of more, replete with you, My most true mind thus maketh mine untrue. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. Drink OR whether doth my mind, being crown'd with you, As fast as objects to his beams assemble? O, 'tis the first; 'tis flattery in my seeing, And my great mind most kingly drinks it up : Mine eye well knows what with his gust is 'greeing, And to his palate doth prepare the cup: If it be poison'd, 'tis the lesser sin That mine eye loves it, and doth first begin. |