Sonnet 147, by William Shakespeare. 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. 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 For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. Sonnet 19: Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws. 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, Th’ uncertain sickly appetite to please. 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 … Sonnet CXLVII. --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. 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. from forth a copse], As You Like It, Act II, Scene VII [Blow, blow, thou winter wind]. 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 reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I … All. Reply, reply. 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? Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, For that which longer nurseth the disease; Feeding on that which doth preserve the sill. 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 … 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 For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. PLAY. 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. 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." PLAY. My thoughts and my discourse as madmen’s are. 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 reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desp’rate now approve Desire is … While William Shakespeare’s reputation is based primarily on his plays, he became famous first as a poet. Sonnet 18: Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? The proximity of longing and longer makes it seem as if the patient longs to prolong his illness. Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill. Shakespeare Sonnet 147. For that which longer nurseth the disease; longer = for a longer time. 1 Answers. 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 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.” Desire is death, which physic did except. 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. In faith, I do not love thee. 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. 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. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now … At random from the truth vainly express’d; For I have sworn thee fair and thought thee bright. Let us all ring Fancy's knell: I'll begin it,--Ding, dong, bell! nurseth = nurses. Song of the Witches: “Double, double toil and trouble”, Sonnet 15: When I consider everything that grows. My love is as a fever, longing still. 'Tis better to have loved and lost (ba-ba-ba ba-ba-ba-ba) How begot, how nourishèd? My love is as a fever, longing still. Line 1. Who art as black as hell, as dark as night. posted by three blind mice at 2:07 AM on September 18, 2012 [ 10 favorites] Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve. appetite to please... "My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Desire is death, which physic did except. Desire is death, which physic did except. For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. Tis' better to have loved and lost, then never to have loved at all. -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. 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. 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. 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. Perfect for acing essays, tests, and quizzes, as well as for writing lesson plans. 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. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve Desire is … Sonnet 147: My love is as a fever, longing still By William Shakespeare. People living in Scotland who describe themselves as being of an ethnic minority have a longer life expectancy than those describing themselves as White … 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 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 … My thoughts and my discourse as madmen’s are. 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 … that which etc. "My love is as a fever, longing still. Desire is death, which physic did except. 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. = the unsuitable food or drink which caused the disease initially. Learn exactly what happened in this chapter, scene, or section of Shakespeare’s Sonnets and what it means. For that which longer nurseth the disease, Line 3. 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. Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve. Picard My love is a fever, longing still for that which no longer nurseth the disease. 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. STUDY. My love is like a fever, still longing. 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. It is engender'd in the eyes; With gazing fed; and Fancy dies In the cradle where it lies. 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. In other words, "I can't think myself better than all of you, if I become one of you." 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. At random from the truth vainly expressed: For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright. 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. 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. The word is ambiguous, for it suggests two opposites, 'brings back to health', and 'tends carefully, so that it (the illness) stays'. Venus and Adonis [But, lo! PARAPHRASE. 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. Lines 1-2 My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Hey, wait a minute. My love is as a fever, longing still. 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. 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 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. Read the following excerpt from William Shakespeare's Sonnet 147 and fill in the blanks in the paragraph. Ding, dong, bell! My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve. 2. My love is as a fever, longing still. 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