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1
For Love of the Written Word
W Shakespeare
of Stratford
O none but unthrifts
Who lets so fair a house
O that you were your self
but love you are
fall to decay
No longer yours
than you your self here live
Dear my love you know
Which husbandry
Against this coming end
you should prepare
in honour might uphold
And your sweet semblance
to some other give
Sonnet XIII
You had a father
Against the stormy
So should that beauty
which you hold in lease
gusts of winter's day
Find no determinati
on
then you were
let your son say so
And barren rage
Yourself again
after yourself's decease
of death's eternal cold
When your sweet issue
your sweet form should bear
