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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
SONNET: 107, by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE Recitation Poem Explanation Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Not [or nor] mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul Last Line: When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent. Variant Title(s): I'll Live In This Poor Rime Subject(s): Freedom; Poetry & Poets; Liberty | |||
Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul Of the wide world dreaming on things to come, Can yet the lease of my true love control, Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom. The mortal moon hath her eclipse endured And the sad augurs mock their own presage; Incertainties now crown themselves assured And peace proclaims olives of endless age. Now with the drops of this most balmy time My love looks fresh, and death to me subscribes, Since, spite of him, I'll live in this poor rhyme, While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes: And thou in this shalt find thy monument, When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOVE THE WILD SWAN by ROBINSON JEFFERS AFTER TENNYSON by AMBROSE BIERCE QUARTET IN F MAJOR by WILLIAM MEREDITH |
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