All the spirit deeply dawning in the dark of hazel eyes--
Saying, 'I have hid my feelings, fearing they should do me wrong';
Saying, 'Dost thou love me, cousin?' weeping, 'I have loved thee long.'
I have nowhere else to post the poem and share it with you in private.
一段诗,并一些适合冬季的颜色
Saying, 'I have hid my feelings, fearing they should do me wrong';
Saying, 'Dost thou love me, cousin?' weeping, 'I have loved thee long.'
I have nowhere else to post the poem and share it with you in private.
一段诗,并一些适合冬季的颜色
today's reading excerpt:
Sonnet3 The Golden Time
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 uneared 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 shalt see,
Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.
But if thou live rememb'red not to be,
Die single and thine image dies with thee.
Sonnet3 The Golden Time
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 uneared 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 shalt see,
Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.
But if thou live rememb'red not to be,
Die single and thine image dies with thee.
#微公益# “为了讨好白天,我告诉它你是光明,在阴云密布时你将把它映照。我又这样说去讨黑夜的欢心,当星星不眨眼,你将为它闪耀。”
“I tell the day to please him thou art bright,And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven;So flatter l the swart complexioned night,When sparkling stars twire not thou gild’st the even.”
“I tell the day to please him thou art bright,And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven;So flatter l the swart complexioned night,When sparkling stars twire not thou gild’st the even.”
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