莎士比亚的十四行诗.docVIP

莎士比亚十四行诗 Shakespeare Sonnet 12 When I do count the clock that tells the time, And see the brave day sunk in hideous night; When I behold the violet past prime, And sable curls all silverd oer with white: When lofty trees I see barren of leaves, Which erst from heat did canopy the herd, And summers green, all girded up in sheaves, Born on the bier with white and bristly beard; Then of thy beauty do I question make, That thou among the wastes of time must go, Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake, And die as fast as they see others grow; And nothing gainst Times scythe can make defenc