Blast from the past... Shakespeare, Sonnet 1

[butterfly]

From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty's rose might never die,
But as the riper should by time decease,
His tender heir might bear his memory:
But thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,
Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,
Making a famine where abundance lies,
Thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel:
Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament,
And only herald to the gaudy spring,
Within thine own bud buriest thy content,
And, tender churl, mak'st waste in niggarding:
Pity the world, or else this glutton be,
To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.

Comments

[therisingmoon.livejournal.com]

Lovely.

And that icon makes me giggle every time I see it. :)

[butterfly.livejournal.com]

That William guy sure had a way with words.

I'm glad that you like the icon - it gives me the giggles occasionally.