Monday, October 6, 2008
054.
O how much more doth beauty beauteous seem,
By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem
For that sweet odour, which doth in it live:
The canker blooms have full as deep a dye,
As the perfumed tincture of the roses,
Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly,
When summer's breath their masked buds discloses:
But for their virtue only is their show,
They live unwooed, and unrespected fade,
Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so,
Of their sweet deaths, are sweetest odours made:
And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,
When that shall vade, by verse distills your truth.
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2 comments:
Like the scent of that moment long ago, it thrills my nerves; only to fade, into a feeling.
Calming it goes, and then sweetened with sound; also made into that place, under which I lay covered in wood.
Forever now, and it would seem wrought back; but for that sweet touch, I made contact with peace.
I MUST BORROW YOUR CAT!
Love you,
Yes you! Jesse
LOL! You cannot borrow my daughter, lol! She's my one and only love! And thank you for loving me, you're like one of one people who actually feel such a way :-) I've seen your latest posts and their lookin' good. Excellent piece on yourself.
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