More Sonnetey Goodness
This one struck me as well I guess when all is said and done, as practical as I am in my day to day life – I remain a romantic at heart. Sonnet 108 What's in the brain, that ink may character, Which hath not figured to thee my true spirit? What's new to speak, what now to register, That may express my love, or thy dear merit? Nothing, sweet boy; but yet, like prayers divine, I must each day say o'er the very same; Counting no old thing old, thou mine, I thine, Even as when first I hallowed …Read the Rest
