needing
11-23-2005, 08:01 AM
Aslamo Alekom
I want your help today ...please
Just
I want the meain idea ( in general) for each poem in 4 lines with use simple language and correct grammar
SONNET 33
Full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye*,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy;
Anon permit the basest clouds to ride
With ugly rack* on his celestial face,
And from the forlorn world his visage hide,
Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace*:
Even so my sun one early morn did shine
With all triumphant splendor on my brow;
But out, alack! he was but one hour mine;
The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now.
Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth;
Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun staineth
Sonnet 34
Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day,
And make me travel forth without my cloak,
To let base clouds o'ertake me in my way,
Hiding thy bravery in their rotten smoke?
'Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break,
To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face,
For no man well of such a salve can speak
That heals the wound and cures not the disgrace:
Nor can thy shame give physic to my grief;
Though thou repent, yet I have still the loss:
The offender's sorrow lends but weak relief
To him that bears the strong offence's cross.
Ah! but those tears are pearl which thy love sheds,
And they are rich and ransom all ill deeds.
SONNET 35
No more be grieved at that which thou hast done:
Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud;
Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,
And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.
All men make faults, and even I in this,
Authorizing thy trespass with compare,
Myself corrupting, salving thy amiss,
Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are;
For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense--
Thy adverse party is thy advocate--
And 'gainst myself a lawful plea commence:
Such civil war is in my love and hate
That I an accessary needs must be
To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.
SONNET 42
That thou hast her, it is not all my grief,
And yet it may be said I loved her dearly;
That she hath thee, is of my wailing chief,
A loss in love that touches me more nearly.
Loving offenders, thus I will excuse ye:
Thou dost love her, because thou knowst I love her;
And for my sake even so doth she abuse me,
Suffering my friend for my sake to approve her.
If I lose thee, my loss is my love's gain,
And losing her, my friend hath found that loss;
Both find each other, and I lose both twain,
And both for my sake lay on me this cross:
But here's the joy; my friend and I are one;
Sweet flattery! then she loves but me alone
Sidney
sonnet 15
You that do search for every purling spring
Which from the ribs of old Parnassus flows
And every flower, not sweet perhaps, which grows
Near thereabouts, into your poesy wring
Ye that do dictionary's method bring
Into your rimes, running in rattling rows
You that poor Petrarch's long-deceased woes
With new born sighs and denizen'd wit do sing
You take wrong ways; those far-fet helps be such
As do bewray a want of inward touch
And sure, at length, stol'n goods do come to light
But if, both for your love and skill, your name
You seek to nurse at fullest breasts of Fame,
Stella behold, and then being to indite.
I dont forget adilyoussef
I want your help today ...please
Just
I want the meain idea ( in general) for each poem in 4 lines with use simple language and correct grammar
SONNET 33
Full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye*,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy;
Anon permit the basest clouds to ride
With ugly rack* on his celestial face,
And from the forlorn world his visage hide,
Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace*:
Even so my sun one early morn did shine
With all triumphant splendor on my brow;
But out, alack! he was but one hour mine;
The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now.
Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth;
Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun staineth
Sonnet 34
Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day,
And make me travel forth without my cloak,
To let base clouds o'ertake me in my way,
Hiding thy bravery in their rotten smoke?
'Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break,
To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face,
For no man well of such a salve can speak
That heals the wound and cures not the disgrace:
Nor can thy shame give physic to my grief;
Though thou repent, yet I have still the loss:
The offender's sorrow lends but weak relief
To him that bears the strong offence's cross.
Ah! but those tears are pearl which thy love sheds,
And they are rich and ransom all ill deeds.
SONNET 35
No more be grieved at that which thou hast done:
Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud;
Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,
And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.
All men make faults, and even I in this,
Authorizing thy trespass with compare,
Myself corrupting, salving thy amiss,
Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are;
For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense--
Thy adverse party is thy advocate--
And 'gainst myself a lawful plea commence:
Such civil war is in my love and hate
That I an accessary needs must be
To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.
SONNET 42
That thou hast her, it is not all my grief,
And yet it may be said I loved her dearly;
That she hath thee, is of my wailing chief,
A loss in love that touches me more nearly.
Loving offenders, thus I will excuse ye:
Thou dost love her, because thou knowst I love her;
And for my sake even so doth she abuse me,
Suffering my friend for my sake to approve her.
If I lose thee, my loss is my love's gain,
And losing her, my friend hath found that loss;
Both find each other, and I lose both twain,
And both for my sake lay on me this cross:
But here's the joy; my friend and I are one;
Sweet flattery! then she loves but me alone
Sidney
sonnet 15
You that do search for every purling spring
Which from the ribs of old Parnassus flows
And every flower, not sweet perhaps, which grows
Near thereabouts, into your poesy wring
Ye that do dictionary's method bring
Into your rimes, running in rattling rows
You that poor Petrarch's long-deceased woes
With new born sighs and denizen'd wit do sing
You take wrong ways; those far-fet helps be such
As do bewray a want of inward touch
And sure, at length, stol'n goods do come to light
But if, both for your love and skill, your name
You seek to nurse at fullest breasts of Fame,
Stella behold, and then being to indite.
I dont forget adilyoussef