'
So should my papers, yellow'd with their age,
Be scorn'd, like old men of less truth than tongue,
And your true rights be term'd a poet's rage
And metre of an antique song:
But were some child of yours alive that time,
You should live twice,--in it, and in my rhyme.
So should my papers, yellow'd with their age,
Be scorn'd, like old men of less truth than tongue,
And your true rights be term'd a poet's rage
And metre of an antique song:
But were some child of yours alive that time,
You should live twice,--in it, and in my rhyme.
Shakespeare - Sonnets
