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that_love's_own_hand_did_make
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Piso Mojado
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Those lips that Love’s own hand did make
Breath’d forth the sound that said ‘I hate,’
To me that languish’d for her sake:
But when she saw my woeful state,
Straight in her heart did mercy come,
Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
Was us’d in giving gentle doom;
And taught it thus anew to greet;
‘I hate,’ she alter’d with an end,
That follow’d it as gentle day
Doth follow night, who like a fiend
From heaven to hell is flown away.
‘I hate’ from hate away she threw,
And sav’d my life, saying—‘Not you.
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051128
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... |
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nom
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anne hathaway
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051129
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... |
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nom
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hate away, anne saved
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051129
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... |
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Piso Mojado
|
shakespeare
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051201
|
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... |
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nom
|
"second best bed"
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051204
|
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... |
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nom
|
was hathaway whateley,
that is the question
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051204
|
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... |
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nom
|
i think yes)
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051205
|
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... |
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Billy Shakes
|
those_lips_that_love's_own_hand_did_make
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051205
|
| |
... |
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Piso Mojado
|
ahh double blathes
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051205
|
| |
... |
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Billy Shakes
|
it's a good poem, so the more venues by which to access it, the better
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051205
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... |
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nom
|
"This is the only sonnet of the 154 which is not written in the usual iambic pentameter"
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051205
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