New sonnets from Shakespeare.
One every five minutes.
One every five minutes.
Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
When not to be receives reproach of being;
Doth part his function and is partly blind,
To one, of one, still such, and ever so.
Return forgetful Muse, and straight redeem,
Come in the rearward of a conquer'd woe;
On Helen's cheek all art of beauty set,
I will acquaintance strangle, and look strange;
He, nor that affable familiar ghost
And chide thy beauty and thy straying youth,
Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,
Comes home again, on better judgement making.
For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
That every tongue says beauty should look so.
