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68
Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn, When beauty lived and died as flowers do now, Before these bastard signs of fair were born, Or durst inhabit on a living brow; Before the golden tresses of the dead, The right of sepulchres, were shorn away,...
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67
un peu de falbala... Ah! Wherefore with infection should he live, And with his presence grace impiety, That sin by him advantage should achieve, And lace itself with his society? Why should false painting imitate his cheek, And steal dead seeming of his...
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66
Les Mendiants (Pieter Brueghel l'Ancien, 1568). Tired with all these, for restful death I cry, As to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity, And purest faith unhappily forsworn, And gilded honour shamefully misplaced, And maiden...
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65
Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, But sad mortality o'ersways their power, How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, Whose action is no stronger than a flower? O! how shall summer's honey breath hold out, Against the wrackful siege...
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64
When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced The rich proud cost of outworn buried age; When sometime lofty towers I see down-razed, And brass eternal slave to mortal rage; When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of the shore,...
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63
Lemek et ses 2 femmes Ada et Tsilla, ils sont dans le chapitre 4 de la Genèse; puis il y a un second Lemek qui est le père de Noé. Against my love shall be as I am now, With time’s injurious hand crushed and o'erworn; When hours have drained his blood...
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62
Salvador Dali, Narcisse (1937) Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye And all my soul, and all my every part; And for this sin there is no remedy, It is so grounded inward in my heart. Methinks no face so gracious is as mine, No shape so true, no truth...
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61
Is it thy will, thy image should keep open my heavy eyelids to the weary night? Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken, while shadows like to thee do mock my sight? Is it thy spirit that thou send'st from thee So far from home into my deeds to...
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60
Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end; Each changing place with that which goes before, In sequent toil all forwards do contend. Nativity, once in the main of light, Crawls to maturity, wherewith being...
