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Who will believe my verse in time to come,
If it were fill'd with your most high deserts?
Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb
Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts.
If I could write the beauty of your eyes,
And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
The age to come would say 'This poet lies;
Such heavenly touches ne'er touch'd earthly faces.'
So should my papers, yellow'd with their age,
Be scorn'd, like old men of less truth than tongue,
And your true rights be term'd a poet's rage
And stretched metre of an antique song:
But were some child of yours alive that time,
You should live twice,—in it, and in my rhyme.
 

Wow, It's been some time I last quoted Shakespeare's Sonnets. I think I used one as a pick-up line the last time. That would have been 6 years ago :hmm:
 


Ah, yes. Sonnet XVII is a good one. I've always like Venus and Adonis, long though as it may be. I used to be able to recite the whole thing verbatim when I was in High School.
 




Ah, yes. Sonnet XVII is a good one. I've always like Venus and Adonis, long though as it may be. I used to be able to recite the whole thing verbatim when I was in High School.

Wow, now that's pretty good. I'm still amazed that I managed to recite Raven without mistakes, but that's many times longer :confused:
 

Into the Woods

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