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1564–1616

33

William Shakespeare

Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy;

Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace:

Even so my sun one early morn did shine, With all triumphant splendour on my brow; But out! alack! he was but one hour mine, The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now.

Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth; Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun staineth.

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33 · William Shakespeare · Poetry Cove