Sonnets Viii by William Shakespeare

THAT time of year thou may’st in me beholdWhen yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hangUpon those boughs which shake against the cold–Bare ruin’d choirs where late the sweet birds sang,In me thou see’st the twilight of such dayAs after Sunset fadeth in the West,Which by and by black night doth take away,Death’s second

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Sonnets Vii by William Shakespeare

BEING your slave, what should I do but tendUpon the hours and times of your desire?I have no precious time at all to spend,Nor services to do, till you require.Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hourWhilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,Nor think the bitterness of absence sourWhen you have bid your servant

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Sonnets Vi by William Shakespeare

O HOW much more doth beauty beauteous seemBy that sweet ornament which truth doth give!The Rose looks fair, but fairer we it deemFor that sweet odour which doth in it live.The Canker-blooms have full as deep a dyeAs the perfumed tincture of the Roses,Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonlyWhen summer’s breath their masked

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Sonnets To The Sundry Notes Of Music by William Shakespeare

I.IT was a lording’s daughter, the fairest one of three,That liked of her master as well as well might be,Till looking on an Englishman, the fair’st that eye could see,Her fancy fell a-turning. Long was the combat doubtful that love with love did fight,To leave the master loveless, or kill the gallant knight:To put in

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Sonnets Ix by William Shakespeare

FAREWELL! thou art too dear for my possessing,And like enough thou know’st thy estimate:The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing;My bonds in thee are all determinate.For how do I hold thee but by thy granting?And for that riches where is my deserving?The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting,And so my patent

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Sonnets Iv by William Shakespeare

THY bosom is endeared with all heartsWhich I, by lacking, have supposed dead:And there reigns Love, and all Love’s loving parts,And all those friends which I thought buried.How many a holy and obsequious tearHath dear religious love stol’n from mine eye,As interest of the dead!–which now appearBut things removed that hidden in thee lie.Thou art

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Sonnets Iii by William Shakespeare

WHEN to the Sessions of sweet silent thoughtI summon up remembrance of things past,I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,And with old woes new wail my dear time’s waste:Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,For precious friends hid in death’s dateless night,And weep afresh love’s long-since-cancell’d woe,And moan th’ expense

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Sonnets Ii by William Shakespeare

WHEN, in disgrace with Fortune and men’s eyes,I all alone beweep my outcast state,And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,And look upon myself, and curse my fate,Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,Featured like him, like him with friends possest,Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope,With what I most enjoy contented

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tazmin

ġham tumhārā thā zindagī goyā tum ko khoyā use nahīñ khoyā fart-e-girya se jī na halkā ho bas yahī soch kar nahīñ royā ashk to ashk haiñ sharāb se bhī maiñ ne ye dāġh-e-dil nahīñ dhoyā maiñ vo kisht-e-nashāt kyoñ kāTūñ jis ko maiñ ne kabhī nahīñ boyā aabla aabla thī jaañ phir bhī bār-e-hastī

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janam kā andhā jo soch aur sach ke rāstoñ par kabhī kabhī koī ḳhvāb dekhe to ḳhvāb meñ bhī azaab dekhe ye shāhrāh-e-hayat jis par hazār-hā qāfile ravāñ haiñ sabhī kī āñkheñ har ek kā dil sabhī ke raste sabhī kī manzil isī hujūm-e-kashāñ-kashāñ meñ tamām chehroñ kī dāstāñ meñ na naam merā na zaat

diwar-e-girya

vo kaisā shobada-gar thā jo masnūī sitāroñ aur naqlī sūrajoñ kī ik jhalak dikhlā ke mere saada dil logoñ kī āñkhoñ ke diye hoñToñ ke jugnū le gayā aur ab ye aalam hai ki mere shahr kā har ik makāñ ik ġhaar kī mānind mahrūm-e-navā hai aur hañstā boltā har shaḳhs ik dīvār-e-girya hai

mujassama

ai siyah-fām hasīna tirā uryāñ paikar kitnī pathrā.ī huī āñkhoñ meñ ġhaltīda hai jaane kis daur-e-alama-nāk se le kar ab tak tū kaḌe vaqt ke zindānoñ meñ ḳhvābīda hai tere sab rañg hayūle ke ye be-jān nuqūsh jaise marbūt ḳhayālāt ke tāne-bāne ye tirī sāñvlī rañgat ye pareshān ḳhutūt bārhā jaise miTāyā ho inheñ duniyā