Siteseen Logo

Sonnet 86 Was it the proud full sail of his great verse

William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare
 

William Shakespeare Sonnets
Sonnets are fourteen-line lyric poems, traditionally written in iambic pentameter - that is, in lines ten syllables long, with accents falling on every second syllable, as in: "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?".
 

Sonnet 86 Was it the proud full sail of his great verse
 

Was it the proud full sail of his great verse,
Bound for the prize of all too precious you,
That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse,
Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew?
Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write
Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead?
No, neither he, nor his compeers by night
Giving him aid, my verse astonished.
He, nor that affable familiar ghost
Which nightly gulls him with intelligence
As victors of my silence cannot boast;
I was not sick of any fear from thence:
But when your countenance fill'd up his line,
Then lack'd I matter; that enfeebled mine.

Shakespearean Sonnet 86 Was it the proud full sail of his great verse

Page Back
Shakespeare Index
Sonnets Index
Add to Favourites

Privacy Statement

Cookie Policy

2017 Siteseen Ltd