letra de sonnet 17 - the marlowe society
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who will believe my verse in time to come
if it were fill’d with your most high deserts?
though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tomb
which hides your life and shows not half your parts
if i could write the beauty of your eyes
and in fresh numbers number all your graces
the age to come would say “this poet lies;
such heavenly touches ne’er touch’d earthly faces.”
so should my papers, yellowed with their age
be scorn’d like old men of less truth than tongue
and your true rights be term’d a poet’s rage
and stretched metre of an antique song:
but were some child of yours alive that time
you should live twice, in it and in my rhyme
letras aleatórias
- letra de the roses - mackenzie shivers
- letra de without your love - sophia shaan
- letra de no comía - kiko y kako
- letra de cecilia - danny small and ukulele mays
- letra de talk to me/every beat of my heart - dorothy moore
- letra de mega culture - napoleon da legend
- letra de tattoos of the music - tee baby
- letra de lettuce - ava roberts
- letra de good things come to those who wait - isak danielson
- letra de bu amor é mi - manno