lirik lagu the marlowe society - sonnet 124
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if my dear love were but the child of state
it might for fortune’s b~st~rd be unfather’d
as subject to time’s love or to time’s hate
weeds among weeds, or flowers with flowers gather’d
no, it was builded far from accident;
it suffers not in smiling pomp, nor falls
under the blow of thralled discontent
whereto the inviting time our fashion calls:
it fears not policy, that heretic
which works on leases of short~number’d hours
but all alone stands hugely politic
that it nor grows with heat nor drowns with showers
to this i witness call the fools of time
which die for goodness, who have liv’d for crime
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