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النشر الإلكتروني

A thousand thousand sighs to save,

Lay me, O where

Sad true lover never find my grave,

To weep there!

Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea.

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 batt'ring 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.

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Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepherd?

SLEEPEST or wakest thou, jolly shepherd ?
Thy sheep be in the corn;

And for one blast of thy minniken mouth,
Thy sheep shall take no harm.

O Mistress mine.

O MISTRESS mine, where are you roaming?
O stay and hear; your true love's coming,
That can sing both high and low.

Trip no further, pretty sweeting,
Journeys end in lovers' meeting,
Every wise-man's son doth know.

What is love? 'Tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;

What's to come is still unsure.

In delay there lies no plenty,

Then come kiss me, sweet-and-twenty ;

Youth's a stuff will not endure.

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