Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget'st so long
To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?
Spend'st thou thy fury on some worthless song,
Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light?
Return, forgetful Muse, and straight redeem
In gentle numbers time so idly spent;
Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem
And gives thy pen both skill and argument.
Rise, resty Muse, my love's sweet face survey,
If Time have any wrinkle graven there;
If any, be a satire to decay,
And make Time's spoils despised every where.
Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life;
So thou prevent'st his scythe and crooked knife.
To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?
Spend'st thou thy fury on some worthless song,
Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light?
Return, forgetful Muse, and straight redeem
In gentle numbers time so idly spent;
Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem
And gives thy pen both skill and argument.
Rise, resty Muse, my love's sweet face survey,
If Time have any wrinkle graven there;
If any, be a satire to decay,
And make Time's spoils despised every where.
Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life;
So thou prevent'st his scythe and crooked knife.
by Shakespeare May 25, 2004
Get the Sonnet 100 mug.Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend
Upon thyself 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 great a sum of sums, yet canst not live?
For having traffic with thyself alone,
Thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive.
Then how, when nature calls thee to be gone,
What acceptable audit canst thou leave?
Thy unused beauty must be tomb'd with thee,
Which, used, lives th' executor to be.
Upon thyself 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 great a sum of sums, yet canst not live?
For having traffic with thyself alone,
Thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive.
Then how, when nature calls thee to be gone,
What acceptable audit canst thou leave?
Thy unused beauty must be tomb'd with thee,
Which, used, lives th' executor to be.
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by Shakespeare May 25, 2004
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Sonnet
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• Sonnet 153
O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends
For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed?
Both truth and beauty on my love depends;
So dost thou too, and therein dignified.
Make answer, Muse: wilt thou not haply say
'Truth needs no colour, with his colour fix'd;
Beauty no pencil, beauty's truth to lay;
But best is best, if never intermix'd?'
Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?
Excuse not silence so; for't lies in thee
To make him much outlive a gilded tomb,
And to be praised of ages yet to be.
Then do thy office, Muse; I teach thee how
To make him seem long hence as he shows now.
For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed?
Both truth and beauty on my love depends;
So dost thou too, and therein dignified.
Make answer, Muse: wilt thou not haply say
'Truth needs no colour, with his colour fix'd;
Beauty no pencil, beauty's truth to lay;
But best is best, if never intermix'd?'
Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?
Excuse not silence so; for't lies in thee
To make him much outlive a gilded tomb,
And to be praised of ages yet to be.
Then do thy office, Muse; I teach thee how
To make him seem long hence as he shows now.
by Shakespeare May 25, 2004
Get the Sonnet 101 mug.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 unear'd womb
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he so fond will be the tomb
Of his self-love, to stop posterity?
Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee
Calls back the lovely April of her prime:
So thou through windows of thine age shall see
Despite of wrinkles this thy golden time.
But if thou live, remember'd not to be,
Die single, and thine image dies with thee.
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 unear'd womb
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he so fond will be the tomb
Of his self-love, to stop posterity?
Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee
Calls back the lovely April of her prime:
So thou through windows of thine age shall see
Despite of wrinkles this thy golden time.
But if thou live, remember'd not to be,
Die single, and thine image dies with thee.
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by Shakespeare May 25, 2004
Get the Sonnet 3 mug.by mkvgti June 7, 2009
Get the ewa sonnet mug.Similar to a Shakespearean sonnet, the sus sonnet is one of 4 major types of sonnets in poetry. The sus sonnet is the final embodiment of poetry and human intellect so there are no restrictions to how it is written.
Artists such as Kanye East and DigBarGayRaps have able to combine poetry and rap in their gay freestyles.
Artists such as Kanye East and DigBarGayRaps have able to combine poetry and rap in their gay freestyles.
"He lick my dick and the cum start dripping
I took a bite out of his ass, it tastes like lemon pepper chicken
He throw me up in the air, my booty flipping
He dug in his balls in my booty like he Scotty Pippen" -DigBarGayRaps
Although a rhymed verse is not required, it is present in this sus sonnet. These lines are the pinnacle of mankind and truly masterful.
I took a bite out of his ass, it tastes like lemon pepper chicken
He throw me up in the air, my booty flipping
He dug in his balls in my booty like he Scotty Pippen" -DigBarGayRaps
Although a rhymed verse is not required, it is present in this sus sonnet. These lines are the pinnacle of mankind and truly masterful.
by Funny.YellowDog December 9, 2021
Get the sus sonnet mug.A new poetic form, derived from the classical sonnet's 14 lines, that presents these in stanzas of 5, 4, 3 and 2 lines, not necessarily in this order. On occasion, the author chooses to have an extra 1-line stanza
So called for the nationality of the first author to use it.
So called for the nationality of the first author to use it.
The Brazilian Sonnet is a new poetic form.
On a Dark Starless Evening
I find it hard to believe
that we are here, a thumbed breed
when once there was not a name
without a process ingrained
other than thoughts from a being.
Even if a mighty one,
since there is science, there's some
processes that take their place
for minds have them been seeing
It does not say a whole lot
about if there is a god
for it might be agreeing
Yet some would say scientists
must have magic'lly congiened
on a dark, starless evening.
On a Dark Starless Evening
I find it hard to believe
that we are here, a thumbed breed
when once there was not a name
without a process ingrained
other than thoughts from a being.
Even if a mighty one,
since there is science, there's some
processes that take their place
for minds have them been seeing
It does not say a whole lot
about if there is a god
for it might be agreeing
Yet some would say scientists
must have magic'lly congiened
on a dark, starless evening.
by bunytou May 8, 2011
Get the Brazilian Sonnet mug.