Day 72 - Sonnet #84: comparison, praise, verses, rival

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WOW - it's already been ONE YEAR! :-)

If you'd like to see how it all began, here's Day #1. I think we've come a long way...




Who is it that says most, which can say more,
Than this rich praise, that you alone, are you?
In whose confine immured is the store,
Which should example where your equal grew.
Lean penury within that pen doth dwell,
That to his subject lends not some small glory,
But he that writes of you, if he can tell,
That you are you, so dignifies his story.
Let him but copy what in you is writ,
Not making worse what nature made so clear,
And such a counterpart shall fame his wit,
Making his style admired every where.
You to your beauteous blessings add a curse,
Being fond on praise, which makes your praises worse.


What line or lines most resonate with you?

As always - feedback, comments and creativity are welcome!

Day 71 - Sonnet #59: beauty, birth, comparison, praise, time, history

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Musical version




If there be nothing new, but that which is,
Hath been before, how are our brains beguiled,
Which labouring for invention bear amis
The second burthen of a former child!
O that record could with a backward look,
Even of five hundred courses of the sun,
Show me your image in some antique book,
Since mind at first in character was done.
That I might see what the old world could say,
To this composed wonder of your frame,
Whether we are mended, or where better they,
Or whether revolution be the same.
O sure I am the wits of former days,
To subjects worse have given admiring praise.


What line (or lines) most resonates with you?

As always - feedback, comments and creativity are welcome!

Day 65 - Sonnet #85: muse, modesty, praise, rival, superficial

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My tongue-tied muse in manners holds her still,
While comments of your praise richly compiled,
Reserve thy character with golden quill,
And precious phrase by all the Muses filed.
I think good thoughts, whilst others write good words,
And like unlettered clerk still cry Amen,
To every hymn that able spirit affords,
In polished form of well refined pen.
Hearing you praised, I say 'tis so, 'tis true,
And to the most of praise add something more,
But that is in my thought, whose love to you
(Though words come hindmost) holds his rank before,
Then others, for the breath of words respect,
Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect.

As always - feedback, comments and creativity are welcome!

Day 18 - Sonnet #39

Very excited to have the Parallel Octave join the Challenge! They are an improvising chorus in Baltimore, and sent in an audio for Sonnet #126.

And now, on with #39...



O how thy worth with manners may I sing,
When thou art all the better part of me?
What can mine own praise to mine own self bring:
And what is't but mine own when I praise thee?
Even for this, let us divided live,
And our dear love lose name of single one,
That by this separation I may give:
That due to thee which thou deserv'st alone:
O absence what a torment wouldst thou prove,
Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave,
To entertain the time with thoughts of love,
Which time and thoughts so sweetly doth deceive.
And that thou teachest how to make one twain,
By praising him here who doth hence remain.

As always - feedback, comments and creativity are welcome!