Сонет Шекспир Уильям
«V-3 sonnet XVII»
"V-3 sonnet XVII"
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.
Сонет Шекспир Уильям - V-3 sonnet XVII
См. также Уильям Шекспир (William Shakespeare) - Сонеты :
V-3 sonnet XVIII
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more...
V-3 sonnet XIX
Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws, And make the earth devour...