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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2009-01-08 | [Ce texte devrait être lu en english] | Inscrit à la bibliotèque par Cristian Vasiliu
Why is my verse so barren of new pride,
So far from variation or quick change? Why with the time do I not glance aside To new-found methods, and to compounds strange? Why write I still all one, ever the same, And keep invention in a noted weed, That every word doth almost tell my name, Showing their birth, and where they did proceed? O! know sweet love I always write of you, And you and love are still my argument; So all my best is dressing old words new, Spending again what is already spent: For as the sun is daily new and old, So is my love still telling what is told.
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