 | William Shakespeare - 1843 - 600 pągines
...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...be term'da 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... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1843 - 596 pągines
...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...be term'da 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... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1843 - 672 pągines
...and shews not half your parts. If I could write the heauty of your eyes, And in fresh numhers numher all your graces, The age to come would say this poet lies, Such heavenly touches ne'er touched earthly faces. So should my papers, yellowed with their age, Be scorned like old men of less... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1844 - 532 pągines
...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...ne'er touch'd earthly faces." So should my papers , ycllow'd with their age , Be scorn'd, like old men of less truth than tongue, And your true rights... | |
 | Charles Knight - 1849 - 574 pągines
...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...touches ne'er touch'd earthly faces. So should my papera, yellow'd with their age, Be scorn'd, like old men of less truth than tongue; And your true... | |
 | Charles Knight - 1849 - 582 pągines
...Though yet Heaven knows it is bat as a tomb Which hides your life, and shows not hilf your parts. If I could write the beauty of your eyes, And in fresh...This poet lies, Such heavenly touches ne'er touch'd carthly faces. So should my papers, yellow'd with their age, Be scorn'd, like old men of less truth... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1850 - 484 pągines
...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...would say, this poet lies, Such heavenly touches ne'er touched earthly faces. So should my papers, yellowed with their age, Be scorned, like old men of less... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1851 - 446 pągines
...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...would say, this poet lies, Such heavenly touches ne'er touched earthly faces. So should my papers, yellowed with their age, Be scorned, like old men of less... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1851 - 458 pągines
...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...would say, this poet lies, Such heavenly touches ne'er touched earthly faces. So should my papers, yellowed with their age, Be scorned, like old men of less... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1851 - 624 pągines
...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...be term'da 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... | |
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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... 
