تعديل - تعديل مصدري - تعديل ويكي بيانات
Q1Q2Q3C
Was it the proud full sail of his great verse, Bound for the prize of all-too-precious you, That did my ripe thoughts in my brain in-hearse, Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew? Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead? No, neither he, nor his compeers by night, Giving him aid, my verse astonished. He, nor that affable familiar ghost Which nightly gulls him with intelligence, As victors, of my silence cannot boast; I was not sick of any fear from thence. But when your countenance filled up his line, Then lacked I matter, that enfeebled mine.
481214
السونيت 86 هي واحدة من السوناتات الـ 154 التي كتبها الكاتب والشاعر الإنجليزي وليام شكسبير.
الطبعة الأولى؛
طبعات مختلفة؛
{{استشهاد بكتاب}}
الطبعات النقدية الحديثة؛
هذه بذرة مقالة عن الأدب بحاجة للتوسيع. فضلًا شارك في تحريرها.