Song of the Witches: “Double, double toil and trouble”, Sonnet 15: When I consider everything that grows. My reason, the physician to my love, 5: Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve : Desire is … PLAY. Longing still, for that which longer nurseth the disease In faith, I do not love thee Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? 1 Answers. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desp’rate now approve Desire is … Picard My love is a fever, longing still for that which no longer nurseth the disease. Ding, dong, bell! For that which longer nurseth the disease; Feeding on that which doth preserve the sill. Learn exactly what happened in this chapter, scene, or section of Shakespeare’s Sonnets and what it means. Let us all ring Fancy's knell: I'll begin it,--Ding, dong, bell! My love is as a fever, longing stillFor that which longer nurseth the disease;Feeding on that which doth preserve the sill,The uncertain sickly appetite to please.My reason, the physician to my love,Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,Hath left me, and I desperate now approveDesire is death, which physic did except.Past cure I am, now reason is past care,And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;My thoughts and my discourse as madmen’s are,At random from the truth vainly express’d;    For I have sworn thee fair and thought thee bright,    Who art as black as hell, as dark as night. My love is as a fever, longing still ... For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, Th’ uncertain sickly appetite to please. = the unsuitable food or drink which caused the disease initially. Venus and Adonis [But, lo! My love is as a fever, longing still. With the partial exception of the Sonnets (1609), quarried since the early 19th century for autobiographical secrets allegedly encoded in them, the nondramatic writings have traditionally been pushed... For that which longer nurseth the disease. posted by three blind mice at 2:07 AM on September 18, 2012 [ 10 favorites] 'Tis better to have loved and lost (ba-ba-ba ba-ba-ba-ba) My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now … My love is as a fever, longing still. My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. My love is a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, Th’ uncertain sickly appetite to please. Sonnet 147 reveals a paradox within the poet, and perhaps the population at large, between desiring the exact sin or ill which makes one sickly, unstable, or less completely whole as an individual, and knowing the thing you desire, in this case the poet's mistress, is the very thing causing trouble. It is engender'd in the eyes; With gazing fed; and Fancy dies In the cradle where it lies. Who art as black as hell, as dark as night. The proximity of longing and longer makes it seem as if the patient longs to prolong his illness. STUDY. that which etc. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now … -from The Tempest, Lord Amiens, a musician, sings before Duke Senior's company, © Academy of American Poets, 75 Maiden Lane, Suite 901, New York, NY 10038. 2. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve. Read the following excerpt from William Shakespeare's Sonnet 147 and fill in the blanks in the paragraph. My love is as a fever longing still, For that which longer nurseth the disease; Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. 5 My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desp'rate now approve Desire is death, which physic did except. MY love is as a fever, longing still : For that which longer nurseth the disease; Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. The word is ambiguous, for it suggests two opposites, 'brings back to health', and 'tends carefully, so that it (the illness) stays'. Desire is death, which physic did except. A B A B My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The‟uncertain sickly appetite to please. Sonnet 147: My love is as a fever, longing still By William Shakespeare. For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, Th'uncertain sickly appetite to please." My love is as a fever, longing still. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve Desire is death, which physic did except. My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease; Feeding on that which doth preserve the sill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. Scholar Don Paterson, like many other Shakespearean scholars, has proposed this particular sonnet was in part inspired by an ending passage in The Old Arcadia written by Sir Phillip Sydney, which reads, "Sicke to the … Sonnet 147, by William Shakespeare. Sonnet 18: Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. A summary of Part X (Section9) in William Shakespeare's Shakespeare’s Sonnets. appetite to please... "My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, For that which longer nurseth the disease; longer = for a longer time. Desire is death, which physic did except. Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve. nurseth = nurses. Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill. My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. While William Shakespeare’s reputation is based primarily on his plays, he became famous first as a poet. For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. My love is as a fever longing still, For that which longer nurseth the disease; Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. My thoughts and my discourse as madmen’s are. My thoughts and my discourse as madmen’s are. Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve. Line 1. Tell me where is Fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head? For that which longer nurseth the disease, For that which feeds the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, Feeding on that which prolongs the illness, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. The poet says his love is like a fever that still longs “My love is as a fever, longing still” for the very thing that prolongs his illness and woeful condition “For that which longer nurseth the disease,” It also thrives on the very reason for his illness “Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,” just to satisfy his own sickly desire “Th’ uncertain sickly appetite to please.” My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now … On the bat's back I do fly After summer merrily: Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. My love is as a fever, longing still. For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. Who art as black as hell, as dark as night. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve Desire is … Translation My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, Th' uncertain sickly appetite to please. PARAPHRASE. At random from the truth vainly express’d; For I have sworn thee fair and thought thee bright. Dr. Carlos del Rio of the Emory University School of Medicine says U.S. regulators aren't dragging their feet on a COVID-19 vaccine, they're actually doing their due diligence before signing off. For that which longer nurseth the disease, Line 3. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve Desire is death, which physic did except. My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, Th’uncertain sickly appetite to please. "My love is as a fever, longing still. SONNET 147. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I … My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve. Desire is death, which physic did except. from forth a copse], As You Like It, Act II, Scene VII [Blow, blow, thou winter wind]. Lines 1-2 My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Hey, wait a minute. In faith, I do not love thee. Some things we were doing at the start of the pandemic are no longer necessary, and some still are by Sam Schipani December 3, 2020 December 3, 2020 Share this: My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease; Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. Sonnet CXLVII. My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. I do love America but, to quote one of my own countrymen, "my love is as a fever, longing still for that which longer nurseth the disease." People living in Scotland who describe themselves as being of an ethnic minority have a longer life expectancy than those describing themselves as White … William Shakespeare, regarded as the foremost dramatist of his time, wrote more than thirty plays and more than one hundred sonnets, all written in the form of three quatrains and a couplet that is now recognized as Shakespearean. Shakespeare Sonnet 147. My love is as a fever longing still, For that which longer nurseth the disease; Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. Reply, reply. My reason, the physician to my love, 5 Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve Desire is … --from The Merchant of Venice Where the bee sucks, there suck I: In a cowslip's bell I lie; There I couch when owls do cry. SONNET 147. My love is like a fever, still longing. Longing still for that which longer nurseth the disease. C D C D My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I, desperate, now approve Desire is death, which physic did except. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I, desperate, now approve Desire is death, … My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. In other words, "I can't think myself better than all of you, if I become one of you." My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now … Desire is death, which physic did except. Tis' better to have loved and lost, then never to have loved at all. Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. How begot, how nourishèd? For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. At random from the truth vainly expressed: For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright. All. Perfect for acing essays, tests, and quizzes, as well as for writing lesson plans. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desp'rate now approve Desire is … Sonnet 19: Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws. Line 2. PLAY. 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