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best love poems moore argument

.•° ♥¤õShakspìer pøemsõ¤♥°•.

Shåkspìèr bèst pøèms.

Sonnet IV
by William Shakespeare
Unthrifty loveliness, why dost
thou spend
Upon thyself thy beauty's legacy?
Nature's bequest gives nothing,
but doth lend,
And being frank, she lends to
those are free.
Then, beauteous niggard, why
dost thou abuse
The bounteous largess given
thee to give?
Profitless usurer, why dost thou
So great a sum of sums, yet canst
not live?
For having traffic with thyself
Thou of thyself thy sweet self
dost deceive.
Then how, when nature calls
thee to be gone,
What acceptable audit canst thou
Thy unused beauty must be
tomb'd with thee,
Which, used, lives th' executor to
.•° ♥¤õ¤♥°•..•° ♥¤õ¤♥°•..•° ♥õ°.

Sonnet VII
by William Shakespeare
Lo, in the orient when the
gracious light
Lifts up his burninghead, each
under eye
Doth homage to his new-
appearing sight,
Serving with looks his sacred
And having climb'd the steep-up
heavenly hill,
Resembling strong youth in his
middle age,
Yet mortal looks adore his beauty
Attending on his golden
But when from highmost pitch,
with weary car,
Like feeble age, he reeleth from
the day,
The eyes, 'fore duteous, now
converted are
From his low tract, and look
another way:
So thou, thyself out-going in thy
Unlook'd on diest, unless thou
get a son.
.•° ♥¤õ¤♥°•..•° ♥¤õ¤♥°•..•° ♥õ°.
Sonnet IX
by William Shakespeare
Is it far fear to wet a widow's
That thou consumest thyself in
single life?
Ah! if thou issueless shalt hap to
The world will wail thee, like a
makeless wife;
The world will be thy widow, and
still weep
That thou no form of thee hast
left behind,
When every private widow well
may keep
By children's eyes her
husband'sshape in mind.
Look, what an unthrift in the
world doth spend
Shifts but his place, for still the
world enjoys it;
But beauty's waste hath in the
world an end,
And kept unused, the user so
destroys it.
No love toward others in that
bosom sits
That on himself such murderous
shame commits.
.•° ♥¤õ¤♥°•..•° ♥¤õ¤♥°•..•° ♥õ°.

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