When thou do'st play, and sweetly sing, Whether it be the voice or string, Or both of them, that do agree Thus to en-trance and ravish me: This, this I know, I'm oft struck mute; And dye away upon thy Lute. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MODERN PARAPHRASE OF SHAKESPEARE'S SONNET 29 by GEORGE SANTAYANA BREAKFAST by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON MOTHER TO SON by IRENE RUTHERFORD MCLEOD THE DYING SWAN by THOMAS STURGE MOORE THE FIGHT AT SAN JACINTO [APRIL 21, 1836] by JOHN WILLIAMSON PALMER ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 49 by PHILIP SIDNEY |