Sonnet 47: What, Have I thus Betray'd
What, have I thus betray'd my liberty?
Can those black beams such burning marks engrave In my free side? or am I born a slave,
Whose neck becomes such yoke of tyranny?
Or want I sense to feel my misery?
Or sprite, disdain of such disdain to have,
Who for long faith, though daily help I crave,
May get no alms but scorn of beggery?
Virtue awake, beauty but beauty is;
I may, I must, I can, I will, I do
Leave following that, which it is gain to miss.
Let her go! Soft, but here she comes. Go to,
Unkind, I love you not. Oh me, that eye
Doth make my heart give to my tongue the lie.
poem by Philip Sidney
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Related quotes
Wilt Thou Unkind Thus Reave Me
Wilt thou unkind thus reave me
Of my heart, of my heart,
And so leave me, and so leave me?
Farewell! Farewell!
But yet or e'er I part, O cruel,
Kiss me, sweet, kiss me,
sweet, sweet my jewel.
Hope by disdain grows cheerless,
Fear doth love, love doth fear
Beauty peerless, beauty peerless.
True love cannot be changed
Though delight from desert
Be estranged, be estranged.
poem by John Dowland
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Black
Black is thy thought, doth blacken thy name
Slandered beauty
So black is thy shame
Black is thy pupil doth blacken thy mood
Tortured beauty
So black when thy brood
Black is thy heart doth blacken thy tears
Sorrowful beauty
So black is thy fears
Black is thy skin doth blacken within
Black beauty
So black is thy sin
Black is thy hair doth blacken thy shawl
Despair beauty
So black is the abyss as thy beauty fall…..
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Against Indifference
MORE love or more disdain I crave;
Sweet, be not still indifferent:
O send me quickly to my grave,
Or else afford me more content!
Or love or hate me more or less,
For love abhors all lukewarmness.
Give me a tempest if 'twill drive
Me to the place where I would be;
Or if you'll have me still alive,
Confess you will be kind to me.
Give hopes of bliss or dig my grave:
More love or more disdain I crave.
poem by Charles Harper Webb
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My Beauty
There’s are days when you just wanna feel like a beauty in everyone’s eyes. But there’s always a butt head to make you feel less then you are I believe if you think or know you are then you are. It’s only what you make of it. There are times when I don’t feel beauty at but I think of what I always told myself. “My beauty is not just a pretty face. The beauty I have is a brand new sent of peace. My beauty is lovely peace sense of laughing out loud. My beauty is like an oak wooden chair that my daddyand I love to sit and think in. My beauty is a graceful smile I give her everyday.
My beauty I have is a great sense of style that I have to show the world. My beauty is my fragrant smell of lavender on my skin and hair. Beauty that I want is a 5 star hotel that someday I will stay in when I’m famous. Beauty is my toned color of the skin on my body. My beauty slowly surely of love i feel for you.
Beauty is my sleek smooth skin of my true beauty is deep within me. Now I know the sign of beauty I was bless with.
poem by Evevona Plummer
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Because I Love You
Its time now to leave
Quiet the mind of its chatter
Still the riot in your heart
Disarm the tongue of its dagger
Tell your arms not to worry so
And listen.....
Step into it
Lift your face into the strong wind
Least we miss its meaning
Such cold beauty exists here
Do you see it?
Like the landscape
Frozen & waiting to be born
Let me bundle you in clothing
And soft things
Because I love you
I will not send you out into the night
With teeth marks & pride I have stripped you of
We will prepare each other
We will make up our own ceremony
I will draw a compass on your belly
Tell me that its ok
Before you turn me loose
Into the endless sky
Let me kiss you & then send you on your way
For winters can be long
And I will need a friend
song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet VIII: Thou Poor Heart
Thou poor heart sacrific'd unto the fairest,
Hast sent the incense of thy sighs to heav'n;
And still against her frowns fresh vows repairest,
And made thy passions with her beauty ev'n.
And you mine eyes, the agents of my heart,
Told the dumb message of my hidden grief,
And oft with careful turns, with silent art,
Did treat the cruel Fair to yield relief.
And you my verse, the advocates of love,
Have follow'd hard the process of my case,
And urg'd that title which doth plainly prove
My faith should win, if justice might have place.
Yet though I see that nought we do can move her,
'Tis not disdain must make me leave to love her.
poem by Samuel Daniel
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Sonnet 132: Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me
Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me,
Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain,
Have put on black, and loving mourners be,
Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.
And truly not the morning sun of heaven
Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east,
Nor that full star that ushers in the even
Doth half that glory to the sober west
As those two mourning eyes become thy face.
O, let it then as well beseem thy heart
To mourn for me since mourning doth thee grace,
And suit thy pity like in every part.
Then will I swear beauty herself is black,
And all they foul that thy complexion lack.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Sonnet XXVI: Look In My Griefs
Look in my griefs, and blame me not to mourn,
From care to care that leads a life so bad;
Th'orphan of fortune, born to be her scorn,
Whose clouded brow doth make my days so sad.
Long are their nights whose cares do never sleep,
Loathsome their days whom no sun ever joy'd;
Her fairest eyes do penetrate so deep
That thus I live both day and night annoy'd.
But since the sweetest root doth yield thus much,
Her praise from my complaint I may not part;
I love th'effect for that the cause is such;
I'll praise her face and blame her flinty heart,
Whilst that we make the world admire at us,
Her for disdain, and me for longing thus.
poem by Samuel Daniel
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Mother(Nigeria)
Soft. Beautiful.
Curvy terrains
Large territory
Earthy treasures
Oily beauty
One of a kind
The giant of its kind
Fruitful woman
Her fruit is black
I am one of them
What went wrong mother?
You travail in pain
And bask in shame
As you give your life
To gain your glory
The land is hard
And fluid bitter
Your children cry
The rain gives way
A pause in time
You run in reverse
As greed drives your fruits to evil
On both knees
I whisper to him who made you:
Come on. Come out.
Come down. Come here.
Light this candle again
Let the world feel her heat
Let the fire that is going out spark
Mother, my heart's heavy
All that I see is violence
Hatred, division and strife
Hope dies slowly each day
I miss it all
From the love to the rainbow
These troubles are snapping me in two
I miss it all
From the dancing in the rain
To watching the sun set on you
These problems are breaking me in two
But I hold onto that lone neon light
This is not the end of our beginning
Mother, through it all
I hold your hand
And I promise never to let go
I'll give my beauty to make you beautiful
Give my glory to make you glorious again
Kill my greed to make you rich
Dig the gold in me
And wear you a crown
Love is my heart
I'll give it to all
In time, though hard
Your fire will burn
On bended knees
I cry to him who made you
Come on. Come out.
Come down. Come here.
Touch this land
And let your love set her free.
poem by Jenim Dibie
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I can't feel the sunshine
I can't feel the sunshine
Or see the stars aright
For thinking of her beauty
And her kisses bright.
She would let me kiss her
Once and not again.
Deeming soul essential,
Sense doth she disdain.
If I should once kiss her,
I would never rest
Till I had lain hour long
Pillowed on her breast.
Lying so, I'd tell her
Many a secret thing
God has whispered to me
When my soul took wing.
Would that I were Sappho,
Greece my land, not this!
There the noblest women,
When they loved, would kiss.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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The Bondman
Feebly the bondman toiled,
Sadly he wept-
Then to his wretched cot
Mournfully crept;
How doth his free-born soul
Pine 'neath his chain!
Slavery! Slavery!
Dark is thy reign.
Long ere the break of day,
Roused from repose,
Wearily toiling
Till after its close-
Praying for freedom,
He spends his last breath:
Liberty! Liberty!
Give me or death.
When, when, O Lord! will right
Triumph o'er wrong?
Tyrants oppress the weak,
O Lord! how long?
Hark! hark! a peal resounds
From shore to shore-
Tyranny! Tyranny!
Thy reign is o'er.
E'en now the morning
Gleams from the East-
Despots are feeling
Their triumph is past-
Strong hearts are answering
To freedom's loud call-
Liberty! Liberty!
Full and for all.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Song. Mediocrity in love rejected.
GIVE me more love or more disdain ;
The torrid or the frozen zone
Bring equal ease unto my pain,
The temperate affords me none :
Either extreme of love or hate,
Is sweeter than a calm estate.
Give me a storm ; if it be love,
Like Danaë in that golden shower,
I swim in pleasure ; if it prove
Disdain, that torrent will devour
My vulture-hopes ; and he's possess'd
Of heaven, that's but from hell released.
Then crown my joys or cure my pain :
Give me more love or more disdain.
poem by Thomas Carew
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Song: Mediocrity in Love Rejected
Give me more love, or more disdain;
The torrid or the frozen zone
Bring equal ease unto my pain,
The temperate affords me none;
Either extreme, of love or hate,
Is sweeter than a calm estate.
Give me a storm; if it be love,
Like Danae in that golden shower,
I swim in pleasure; if it prove
Disdain, that torrent will devour
My vulture hopes; and he's possessed
Of heaven, that's but from hell released.
Then crown my joys, or cure my pain;
Give me more love, or more disdain.
poem by Thomas Carew
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Mediocrity in Love Rejected
Give me more love or more disdain;
The torrid, or the frozen zone,
Bring equal ease unto my pain;
The temperate affords me none;
Either extreme, of love, or hate,
Is sweeter than a calm estate.
Give me a storm; if it be love,
Like Danae in that golden show'r
I swim in pleasure; if it prove
Disdain, that torrent will devour
My vulture-hopes; and he's possess'd
Of heaven, that's but from hell releas'd.
Then crown my joys, or cure my pain;
Give me more love, or more disdain.
poem by Thomas Carew
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Philosophy Of Beauty And The Beautiful
Simplicity is beauty,
Purity, divinity;
The virtue of quality
Excels that of quantity.
Beauty that pleases the sense is good,
Beauty and vitue are good,
Seek for things simple but noble,
Virtue alone can ennoble.
True beauty is simply graceful,
The graceful are beautiful,
There's beauty that's deceitful,
Nature itself is beautiful,
Beauty is perfection of form,
Virtue and good sense conforms,
Beautiful things may deform,
But virtue act in good form.
poem by Merlin Archivilla
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Blinded By Beautiful and Innocent Sweetness
Born into beauty as beauty bequeath
Her gift of sentiment pouring into thee
Shaping a lady with innocence underneath
Gracefully flowing into thine heart free.
Thine fruit doth grow, like a fragile fig tree
For thy faithful lover to gently pick
And taste thy sweet juice, the sweetness of thee
Till thy sweetness doth make a lover love sick.
Innocent thy poison thy lover's blind faith
As blind as night, thy lover cannot see
That thy innocent beauty, famish till wraith
So I eat thy fruit till death take me
For I am thy lover, whom drinks thy sweet
And drinks to death, till I feel mine love complete
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Ch 05 On Love And Youth Story 02
It is said that a gentleman possessed a slave of exquisite beauty, whom he regarded with love and affection. He nevertheless said to a friend: ‘Would that this slave of mine, with all the beauty and good qualities he possesses, had not a long and uncivil tongue!’ He replied: ‘Brother, do not expect service, after professing friendship; because when relations between lover and beloved come in, the relations between master and servant are superseded’:
When a master with a fairy-faced slave
Begins to play and to laugh
What wonder if the latter coquets like the master
And the gentleman bears it like a slave?
A slave is to draw water and make bricks.
A pampered slave will strike with the fist.
Love
Foolish love is only folly;
Wanton love is too unholy;
Greedy love is covetous;
Idle love is frivolous;
But the gracious love is it
That doth prove the work of it.
Beauty but deceives the eye;
Flattery leads the ear awry;
Wealth doth but enchant the wit;
Want, the overthrow of it;
While in Wisdom's worthy grace,
Virtue sees the sweetest face.
There hath Love found out his life,
Peace without all thought of strife;
Kindness in Discretion's care;
Truth, that clearly doth declare
Faith doth in true fancy prove,
Lust the excrements of Love.
Then in faith may fancy see
How my love may constru'd be;
How it grows and what it seeks;
How it lives and what it likes;
So in highest grace regard it,
Or in lowest scorn discard it.
poem by Nicholas Breton
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Making Love To A Black Woman
How do you make love, to a Black Woman?
How do you make love to a Black Woman,
Romantically and Patiently;
Take the time to make love to her mind.
Fulfill all of her midnight wishes.
Cover her entire body with soft wet kisses.
Tell her, so that she will know!
There's no place on her body
your tongue won't go.
And, when you love a Black Woman,
you love her real slow.
How do you make love, to a Black Woman?
How do you make love to a Black Woman,
Passionately and Sincerely;
Let her Sweetness become your Weakness.
Do not use just the Penis, But include your ear.
Listen to the sweet sound of her moans
and see what you hear.
Feel the warmth and care of her loving embrace.
Place your mouth on hers and savor the taste.
How do you make love, to a Black Woman?
How do you make love to a Black Woman,
Sensually and Honestly;
Say what you mean and mean what you say.
Tell her that you love her,
more and more with each passing day.
Let all of the fantasies that dance in her head.
Become her moonlight reality
when it's time to go to bed.
Kiss and lick all over her body
until you find all her right spots.
Touch and caress her soft skin
and make her real hot.
Mutual satisfaction is a lover's plan.
Love her, cause you are in love with her.
She's your Woman and your her Man.
How do you make love, to a Black Woman?
How do you make love to a Black Woman,
Lovingly and completely;
Love her until her 'Screams of Passion'
are all you that hear.
Suck on her neck and stick
your tongue in her ear.
Hold her soft round ass
in the palm of your hands.
Let her sexual wishes
become your loving commands.
Love your Black Woman with
your Mind, Body and Soul.
She's the most precious gift on this Earth.
She's worth her weight in gold.
How do you make love to a Black Woman?
There's only one true way to start.
To make love to a Black Woman,
just give her your Heart.
poem by Samuel Newton
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SONNET. VVere thy heart soft as thou art faire
VVere thy heart soft as thou art faire,
Thou wer't a wonder past compare:
But frozen Love and fierce disdain
By their extremes thy graces stain.
Cold coyness quenches the still fires
Which glow in Lovers warm desires;
And scorn, like the quick Lightnings blaze,
Darts death against affections gaze.
O Heavens, what prodigy is this
When Love in Beauty buried is!
Or that dead pity thus should be
Tomb'd in a living cruelty.
poem by Henry King
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