Sonnet 107

Album cover art for "Sonnet 107" by The Marlowe Society

The Marlowe Society - Pop

Sonnet 107

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Lyrics

Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul Of the wide world dreaming on things to come Can yet the lease of my true love control Suppos'd as forfeit to a confin'd doom The mortal moon hath her eclipse endur'd And the sad augurs mock their own presage; Incertainties now crown themselves assur'd And peace proclaims olives of endless age Now with the drops of this most balmy time My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes Sincе, spite of him, I'll live in this poor rhyme Whilе he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes: And thou in this shalt find thy monument When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent

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Credits

Writers
  • William Shakespeare