Coursework · Part 2 · Uncategorized

Photography as a illustrative art

Who will believe my verse in time to come,
If it were fill’d 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 touch’d earthly faces.’
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 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. HRF_3946HRF_4673DSC_0606edit

Made my own video with the pictures and the poem being read by David Tennant: https://youtu.be/PlNotAjWhJE

References:

http://www.shakespeare-online.com/sonnets/17.html

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