• Shuffle
    Toggle On
    Toggle Off
  • Alphabetize
    Toggle On
    Toggle Off
  • Front First
    Toggle On
    Toggle Off
  • Both Sides
    Toggle On
    Toggle Off
  • Read
    Toggle On
    Toggle Off
Reading...
Front

Card Range To Study

through

image

Play button

image

Play button

image

Progress

1/117

Click to flip

Use LEFT and RIGHT arrow keys to navigate between flashcards;

Use UP and DOWN arrow keys to flip the card;

H to show hint;

A reads text to speech;

117 Cards in this Set

  • Front
  • Back
All kings, and all their favourites,/ All glory of honours, beauties, wits,/
The Sun itself...is elder by a year now
All other things, to their destruction draw/ Only our love hath no decay,/
This, no tomorrow hath, nor yesterday
As well as other princes, we, (Who prince enough in one another be)/
Must leave at last in death, these eyes and ears
Here upon earth, we are kings, and none but we/
Can be such kings
Who is so safe as we? Where none can do/
Treason to us, except one of us two
When, by thy scorn,
O murderess, I am dead
thee, feigned vestal,
in worse arms, shall see
What I will say, I will not tell thee now,
Lest that preserve thee
since my love is spent/
I had rather thou shouldst painfully repent
We two,
one another's best
Our eyes,
upon one double string
As 'twixt two equal armies, Fate/
Suspends uncertain victory
he knew not which soul spake/
Because both meant, both spake the same
This ecstasy doth unperplex/ (We said) and tell us what we love,/
We see by this, it was not sex
But O alas, so long so far/
Our bodies, why do we forbear?
Nor are dross to us,
but allay
So must pure lovers' souls descend/
T'affections and to faculties...Else a great prince in prison lies
To our bodies turn we then, that so/
Weak men on love revealed may look
this dialogue
of one
Me it sucked first,
and now sucks thee
Confess it/ this cannot be said/
A sin, a shame, or loss of maidenhead
And this, alas,
Is more than we would do.
This flea is you and I, and this/
Our marriage bed and marriage temple is.
Though parents grudge,
and you,
use make you
apt to kill me
Yet thou triumph'st and say'st that thou/
Find'st not thyself nor me the weaker now
then learn how false fears be,/ Just so much honour, when thou yield'st to me/
Will waste, as this flea's death took life from thee.
I wonder, by my troth, what thou, and I/
Did till we loved?
sucked on country pleasures, childishly?/
Or snorted we in the seven sleepers' den?
all pleasures
fancies be
If ever any beauty I did see/
Which I desired, and got, 'twas but a dream of thee.
Let sea-discoverers
to new worlds have gone
Let us possess one world,
each hath one, and is one
Where can we find two better hemispheres?/
Without sharp north, without declining west?
Love so alike, that none do slacken,
none can die
Some that have deeper digged love's mine than I/
Say, where his centric happiness doth lie
I have loved, and got,
and told
I should not find that hidden mystery;
Oh 'tis imposture all
So, lovers dream a rich and long delight/
But get a winter-seeming summer's night.
Our ease, our thrift, our honour, and our day/
Shall we, for this vain bubble's shadow pay?
Endure the short scorn
of a bridegroom's play
That loving wretch that swears/ 'Tis not the bodies marry, but the minds/
Which he in her angelic finds
Hope not for mind in women; at their best/
Sweetness and wit, they are but mummy, possessed
The sun
is spent
The world's whole
sap is sunk
Dead and interred; yet all these seem to laugh;/
Compared with me, who am their epitaph
Study me then,
you who shall lovers be
For I am every
dead thing
He ruined me, and I am re-begot/
Of absence, darkness, death; things which are not
I, by love's limbeck, am the grave/
Of all, that's nothing
Oft a flood/ Have we two wept, and so/
Drowned the whole world
But I am by her death (which word wrongs her)/
Of the first nothing
If I were any beast,/ Some ends some means; yea plants, yea stones detest/
And love
If I an ordinary nothing were,/
As shadow, a light, and body must be here
But I am none;
nor will my sun renew
Enjoy your
summer all
Both the year's and the day's
deep midnight is
Busy old fool
unruly sun
Saucy, pedantic wretch, go chide/ Late school boys and sour prentices/
Go tell court huntsmen that the king will ride/ Call country ants to harvest offices
Love, all alike no season knows, nor clime,/
Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time
I could eclipse and cloud them with a wink/
But that I would not lose her sight so long
If her eyes have
not blinded thine
Whether both th'Indias of spice and mine/
Be where thou left'st them, or lie here with me
She is all states,
and all princes, I
Princes do but play us; compared to this/
All honour's mimick; all wealth alchemy
Thine age
asks ease
To warm the world,
that's done in warming us
Shine here to us,
and thou art everywhere
So let us melt, and make no noise/
No tear floods, nor sigh-tempests move
'Twere profanation of our joys/
To tell the laity of our love
Dull sublunary lovers' love/
(Whose soul is sense) cannot admit/ Absence
we by a love, so much refined,/
That ourselves know not what it is
Care less, eyes, lips,
and hands to miss
Our two souls, therefore, which are one...endure not yet/
A breach, but an expansion/ Like gold to aery thinness beat.
If they be two, they are two so/
As stiff twin compasses
Thy soul the fixed foot, makes no show/
To move, but doth if th'other do
when the other doth far roam/ It leans, and hearkens after it,/
And grows erect as that comes home
Thy firmness makes my circle just,/
And makes me end where I begun.
Let me pour forth/ My tears before thy face...
For thy face coins them, and thy stamp they do bear
Fruits of much grief, they are emblems of more,/ When a tear falls, that thou falls which it bore/
So thou and I are nothing then, when on a divers shore.
O more than moon,/ Draw not up seas to drown me in thy sphere,/
Weep me not dead in thine arms
Since thou and I sigh one another's breath/
Who'er sighs most, is cruellest, and hastes the other's death.
This is my play's last scene, here heavens appoint/
My pilgrimage's last mile
my race/
Idly, yet quickly run
My span's last inch,
my minute's latest point
gluttonous death will instantly unjoint/
My body, and soul, and I shall sleep a space
But my ever-waking part shall see that face/
Whose fear already shakes my ever joint
So fall my sins, that all may have their right,/
To where they are bred, and would press me to hell
For thus I leave
the world, the flesh, and devil
At the round earth's imagined corners, blow/
Your trumpets, angels
arise, arise/ From death, you numberless infinities/
Of souls, and to your scattered bodies go
But let them sleep, Lord,
and me mourn a space
'Tis late to ask abundance of thy grace,/
When we are there; here on this lowly ground/ Teach me how to repent
As if thou hadst sealed
my pardon with thy blood
Death be no proud, though some have called thee/
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so
Die not, poor death,
nor yet canst thou kill me
soonest our best men
with thee do go
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war and sickness dwell
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,/
And death shall be no more, Death thou shalt die.
What if this present
were the world's last night?
Mark in my heart, O soul, where thou dost dwell,/ The picture of Christ crucified, and tell/
Whether that countenance can thee affright
Blood fills his frowns, which from his pierced head fell,/ And can that tongue adjudge thee unto hell,/
Which prayed forgiveness for his foes' fierce spite?/ No, no
as in my idolatry/
I said to all my profane mistresses
To wicked spirits are horrid shapes assigned,/
This beauteous form assures a piteous mind.
Batter my heart,
three-personed God
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;/ That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend/
Your force, to break, blow, burn and make me new
I, like an usurped town, to another due,/
Labour to admit you
Reason your viceroy in me, me should defend,/
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue
Yet dearly
I love you
But am betrothed
unto your enemy
Take me to you, imprison me, for I/ Except you enthral me, never shall be free/
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
Wilt thou forgive that sin where I begun,/
Which was my sin, though it were done before?
that sin through which I run,/
And do run still: though still I do deplore
When thou hast done, thou hast not done,/
For, I have more
that sin which I have won others to sin?
and made my sin their door
I have a sin of fear, that when I have spun/
My last thread, I shall perish on the shore
And having done that, thou hast done,/
I fear no more.