The Ornament Of Beauty Is Suspect, A Crow That Flies In Heaven's Sweetest Air.

And beauty, making beautiful old rhyme.
-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Sonnets & other Poetry -- Sonnet cvi...
And art made tongue-tied by authority.
-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Sonnets & other Poetry -- Sonnet lxvi...
But thy eternal summer shall not fade.
-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Sonnets & other Poetry -- Sonnet xviii...
Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing.
-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Sonnets & other Poetry -- Sonnet lxxxvii...
Full many a glorious morning have I seen.
-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Sonnets & other Poetry -- Sonnet xxxiii...
Like stones of worth, they thinly placed are, Or captain jewels in the carcanet.
-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Sonnets & other Poetry -- Sonnet lii...
My grief lies onward and my joy behind.
-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Sonnets & other Poetry -- Sonnet l...
My nature is subdu'd To what it works in, like the dyer's hand.
-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Sonnets & other Poetry -- Sonnet cxi...
Still constant is a wondrous excellence.
-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Sonnets & other Poetry -- Sonnet cv...