Sixty-Five Sonnets With Prefatory Remarks on the Accordance of the Sonnet with the Powers of the English Language: Also, A Few Miscellaneous Poems [by Thomas Doubleday] |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. | XVIII. |
XIX. |
XX. |
XXI. |
XXII. |
XXIII. |
XXIV. |
XXV. |
XXVI. |
XXVII. |
XXVIII. |
XXIX. |
XXX. |
XXXI. |
XXXII. |
XXXIII. |
XXXIV. |
XXXV. |
XXXVI. |
XXXVII. |
XXXVIII. |
XXXIX. |
XL. |
XLI. |
XLII. |
XLIII. |
XLIV. |
XLV. |
XLVI. |
XLVII. |
XLVIII. |
XLIX. |
L. |
LI. |
LII. |
LIII. |
LIV. |
LV. |
LVI. |
LVII. |
LVIII. |
LIX. |
LX. |
LXI. |
LXII. |
LXIII. |
LXIV. |
LXV. |
Sixty-Five Sonnets | ||
44
XVIII.
O woman, thou, who, for an hour of vanity,Oft doom'st another to an age of pain,
To mar a heart and cast it back again
Favours, soft creature, nothing of humanity;
And know, 'tis only reasonless inanity
To ask “what tie can bind thee to retain,”
And say, “the bondage of thy rosy chain
Can little harm the most unstable sanity:”
For, as within the gentlest grasp continuing
The butterfly assured misfortune brings,
So love, alack! is such a tender minion,
That if ye hold him, e'en in silken strings,
Ye chafe the fragile plumage from his wings,
And haply, too, for ever, lame his pinion.
Sixty-Five Sonnets | ||