Let Me Not To The Marriage of True Minds (William Shakespeare)

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

The Ophelia Cantos by Theodora Goss

1. 
   
   
Lilies tangle in her hair: green stems Like water-snakes.
2. 
   
   A disembodied hand Floats on the surface. So much has been lost
   Already: toes, the lobe of her left ear.
   But this remains, a damp, immaculate
   Sign, like a message saved from the dark current.
3. 
   
   She wandered through the courtyard in her tattered
   Dress distributing wild violets.
   She called us whores—your son ma'am, not your husband's
   I think—and knaves—the taxes sir, your cellar
   Is stocked with sweet Moselle. We called this madness.
4. 
   
   Indicia of her innocence: to be
   A maiden floating dead among the flowers.
5. 
   
   She will become an elegant and mute
   Image: the sodden velvet coat, the sinking
   Coronet of poppies, virgin's bower,
   And eglantine. The replicable girl.
   (A blob of Chinese white becomes a hand.
   The artist puts his brush in turpentine,
   The model pulls her stockings on.)
6. 
   
   And yet, Surround by the water-lily stems,
   Her face appears an enigmatic mask:
   A drowned Medusa in her snaking hair.
   The lilies gape around her like pink mouths,
   Telling us nothing we can understand.
7. 
   
   Her eyes stare upwards: dead and not quite dead.

Sonnet 148 by William Shakespeare

O me, what eyes hath Love put in my head,
Which have no correspondence with true sight!
Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled,
That censures falsely what they see aright?
If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,
What means the world to say it is not so?
If it be not, then love doth well denote
Love's eye is not so true as all men's 'No.'
How can it? O, how can Love's eye be true,
That is so vex'd with watching and with tears?
No marvel then, though I mistake my view;
The sun itself sees not till heaven clears.
O cunning Love! with tears thou keep'st me blind,
Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find.

Posted by Weiquan

Sonnet 116 by WIlliam Shakespeare

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Posted by Weiquan