From 2926e9e3d3e9decc0d148b9234c2e475c778f14b Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001
From: cyfraeviolae <cyfraeviolae>
Date: Sat, 23 Jul 2022 00:09:05 -0400
Subject: poems

---
 static/poems.js | 46 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
 1 file changed, 46 insertions(+)

diff --git a/static/poems.js b/static/poems.js
index b60f31b..edbd1e5 100644
--- a/static/poems.js
+++ b/static/poems.js
@@ -520,10 +520,56 @@ In every gesture dignity and love.
 `,
         "link": "https://www.bartleby.com/360/2/277.html",
     },
+    {
+        "line": "Take all my loves my love yea take them all".split(' '),
+        "renderLine": "Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all",
+        "scansion": 'x / x / x / x / x /',
+        "title": "Sonnet 40",
+        "collection": null,
+        "author": "William Shakespeare",
+        "meter": "iambic pentameter",
+        "ctx": `
+Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all:
+What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?
+No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call—
+All mine was thine before thou hadst this more.
+Then if for my love thou my love receivest,
+I cannot blame thee for my love thou usest;
+But yet be blamed if thou this self deceivest
+By wilful taste of what thyself refusest.
+I do forgive thy robb’ry, gentle thief,
+Although thou steal thee all my poverty;
+And yet love knows it is a greater grief
+To bear love’s wrong than hate’s known injury.
+    Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,
+    Kill me with spites, yet we must not be foes.`,
+        "link": "https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/50426/sonnet-40-take-all-my-loves-my-love-yea-take-them-all",
+    },
+    {
+        "line": "I seek with garlands to redress that wrong".split(' '),
+        "renderLine": "I seek with garlands to redress that wrong",
+        "scansion": 'x / x /x / x/ x /',
+        "title": "The Coronet",
+        "collection": null,
+        "author": "Andrew Marvell",
+        "meter": "iambic pentameter",
+        "ctx": `
+When for the thorns with which I long, too long,
+With many a piercing wound,
+My Saviour’s head have crowned,
+I seek with garlands to redress that wrong:
+Through every garden, every mead,
+I gather flowers (my fruits are only flowers),
+Dismantling all the fragrant towers
+That once adorned my shepherdess’s head.
+`,
+        "link": "https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/48328/the-coronet",
+    },
 ]
 /*
     {
         "line": "".split(' '),
+        "renderLine": "",
         "scansion": '',
         "title": "",
         "collection": null,
-- 
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