Sonnet 17
TC Schultz
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Who will believe my verse in time to come If it were filled with your most high deserts? Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts If I could write the beauty of your eyes And in fresh numbers number all your graces The age to come would say 'This poet lies Such heavenly touches ne'er touched earthly faces So should my papers, yellowed with their age Be scorned, like old men of less truth than tongue And your true rights be termed a poet's rage And stretched metre of an antique song But were some child of yours alive that time You should live twice, in it, and in my rhyme
The easy, fast & fun way to learn how to sing: 30DaySinger.com
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"Sonnet 17 Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 25 Apr. 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/4759029/TC+Schultz/Sonnet+17>.
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