Click here for a complete INDEX
Click on the player to hear an audio version of this sonnet.
Sonnet One hundred and eight
What's in the brain that ink may character
Which hath not figured to thee my true spirit?
What's new to speak, what new to register,
That may express my love or thy dear merit?
Nothing, sweet boy; but yet, like prayers divine,
I must, each day say o'er the very same,
Counting no old thing old, thou mine, I thine,
Even as when first I hallow'd thy fair name.
So that eternal love in love's fresh case
Weighs not the dust and injury of age,
Nor gives to necessary wrinkles place,
But makes antiquity for aye his page,
Finding the first conceit of love there bred
Where time and outward form would show it dead.
Abundance -- now an app at the Android Store!! -- click here to download.
Go to Simple Helix for the best web hosting!!
Listen to live episodes of “Abundance” every Sunday night
on K-talk radio at 7 PM MST (9 PM EST, 6 PM PST)
Subscription through Paypal
Click here to subscribe for 99 cents a month -- first week FREE!!
Keep this website funded by donating today!!
No comments:
Post a Comment