A poet to his beloved *** I BRING you with reverent hands The books of my numberless dreams, White woman that passion has


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Time Fly envious Time, till thou run out thy race, Call on the lazy -stepping hours, Whose speed is but the heavy Plummets


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light HAIL holy light, ofspring of Heav’n first-born, Or of th’ Eternal Coeternal beam May I express thee unblam’d? since God is light,


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شعر وفادار از شکسپیر Fidele FEAR no more the heat o’ the sun, Nor the furious winter’s rages; Thou thy worldly task hast


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