0 views today | 1 total view | 100 words | 0.53 pages | read in 1 mins

So am I as the rich whose blessed key,
Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure,
The which he will not every hour survey,
For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure.
Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare,
Since seldom coming in that long year set,
Like stones of worth they thinly placed are,
Or captain jewels in the carcanet.
So is the time that keeps you as my chest
Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide,
To make some special instant special-blest,
By new unfolding his imprisoned pride.
Blessed are you whose worthiness gives scope,
Being had to triumph, being lacked to hope.


Sonnet 52 by William Shakespeare

Disclaimer: All the stories, poems and images used on this website, unless otherwise noted are assumed to be in the public domain. If you feel your image or story or poem should not be here, please email us to [email protected] and it will be promptly removed.
Note: We do not use any of our content for commercial purpose.