Shakespeare's Sonnets.

[Magicman]

Fear No More the Heat o' the Sun
BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
GUIDERIUS. Feare no more the heate o' th' Sun,
Nor the furious Winters rages,
Thou thy worldly task hast don,
Home art gon, and tane thy wages.
Golden Lads, and Girles all must,
As Chimney-Sweepers come to dust.

ARVIRAGUS. Feare no more the frowne o' th' Great,
Thou art past the Tirants stroake,
Care no more to cloath and eate,
To thee the Reede is as the Oake:
The Scepter, Learning, Physicke must,
All follow this and come to dust.

GUIDERIUS. Feare no more the Lightning flash.
ARVIRAGUS. Nor th' all-dreaded Thunderstone.
GUIDERIUS. Feare not Slander, Censure rash.
ARVIRAGUS. Thou hast finish'd Ioy and mone.
BOTH. All Louers young all Louers must,
Consigne to thee and come to dust.

GUIDERIUS. No Exorcisor harme thee,
ARVIRAGUS. Nor no witch-craft charme thee.
GUIDERIUS. Ghost vnlaid forbeare thee.
ARVIRAGUS. Nothing ill come neere thee.
BOTH. Quiet consumation haue,
And renowned be thy graue.

Source: Cymbeline, Act 4, scene 2. ()

[Magicman]

SONNET 65

Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,
But sad mortality o'er-sways their power,
How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
O, how shall summer's honey breath hold out
Against the wreckful siege of battering days,
When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?
O fearful meditation! where, alack,
Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid?
Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back?
Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
O, none, unless this miracle have might,
That in black ink my love may still shine bright.

[UB40]

Feare no more the heate o' th' Sun,
Nor the furious Winters rages,
Thou thy worldly task hast don,
Home art gon, and tane thy wages.
Golden Lads, and Girles all must,
As Chimney-Sweepers come to dust.


I think that this one is sheer class.

It describes death but it is still uplifting!

[Big-Paul]

Which is your favourite and why?

Whats with going all intellectual all of a sudden ............ the sheep wont understand you any more !

[Lara Mills]

Sonnet 130

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

[La Toya]

Sonnet 86

The prize of all too precious you...!

[UB40]

WatWatWats your favourite sonnet?