Cupid laid by his brand, and fell asleep: A maid of Dian’s this advantage found, And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep In a cold valley-fountain of that ground; Which borrow’d from this holy fire of Love A dateless lively heat, still to endure, And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove Against strange maladies a sovereign cure. But at my mistress’ eye Love’s brand new-fired, The boy for trial needs would touch my breast; I, sick withal, the help of bath desired, And thither hied, a sad distemper’d guest, But found no cure: the bath for my help lies Where Cupid got new fire—my mistress’ eyes.
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William Shakespeare was an English playwright, poet and actor. He is widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world's pre-eminent dramatist
Those lips that Love’s own hand did make Breathed forth the sound that said ‘I hate’ To me that languish’d for her sake; But when she saw my woeful state, Straight in her heart did mercy come, Chiding that tongue that ever sweet Was used in giving gentle doom, And taught it thus anew to greet; ‘I hate’ she alter’d with an end, That follow’d it as gentle day Doth follow night, who like a fiend From heaven to hell is flown away; ‘I hate’ from hate away she threw, And saved my life, saying ‘not you.’
William Shakespeare was an English playwright, poet and actor. He is widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world's pre-eminent dramatist
Two loves I have of comfort and despair, Which like two spirits do suggest me still: The better angel is a man right fair, The worser spirit a woman colour’d ill. To win me soon to hell, my female evil Tempteth my better angel from my side, And would corrupt my saint to bea devil, Wooing his purity with her foul pride. And whether that my angel be turn’d fiend Suspect I may, yet not directly tell; But being both from me, both to each friend, I guess one angel in another’s hell: Yet this shall I ne’er know, but live in doubt, Till my bad angel fire my good one out.
William Shakespeare was an English playwright, poet and actor. He is widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world's pre-eminent dramatist
I Want To Die Poem by Abdul Wahab Heavenly cursed and heavily sinned I No more i like to add them, so, I want to die And I want to become a holy ghost Whom the people would like the most. Like the retreating soldiers I like to come back To my own permanent and…
Heavenly cursed and heavily sinned I No more i like to add them, so, I want to die And I want to become a holy ghost Whom the people would like the most. Like the retreating soldiers I like to come back To my own permanent and eternal home You may call it a suicide or martyrdom.
In my real home I see the news Coming from the lipstick coated lips In the television of my molten death People are sobbing with a heavy breath. The atmosphere is heavy and they feel the pain This thrills me and gives a feeling of gain.
The only son of my father The only darling of my mother Fainted repeatedly on the cushion Peal like tear drops coming from my beloved son, Friends and relatives express grief in the community hall, All these excite me and I sought to say'' I love you all.''
For the first time in my life in my last ritual I listen From those men that I was really a very very good man. In such intense atmosphere of gloom and sad My heart cheers and I become too much glad.
I Want To Die Poem by Abdul Wahab Heavenly cursed and heavily sinned I No more i like to add them, so, I want to die And I want to become a holy ghost Whom the people would like the most. Like the retreating soldiers I like to come back To my own permanent and…
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