|Whereto all bonds do tie me day by day; |
|That I have frequent been with unknown minds |
|And given to time your own dear-purchased right |
|That I have hoisted sail to all the winds |
|Which should transport me farthest from your |
|sight. |
|Book both my wilfulness and errors down |
|And on just proof surmise accumulate; |
|Bring me within the level of your frown, |
|But shoot not at me in your waken'd hate; |
| Since my appeal says I did strive to prove |
| The constancy and virtue of your love. |
Sonnets of William Shakespeare
Sonnet 118
|CXVIII. |
|Like as, to make our appetites more keen, |
|With eager compounds we our palate urge, |
|As, to prevent our maladies unseen, |
|We sicken to shun sickness when we purge, |
|Even so, being tuff of your ne'er-cloying |
|sweetness, |
|To bitter sauces did I frame my feeding |
|And, sick of welfare, found a kind of meetness |
|To be diseased ere that there was true needing. |
|Thus policy in love, to anticipate |
|The ills that were not, grew to faults assured |
|And brought to medicine a healthful state |
|Which, rank of goodness, would by ill be cured: |
| But thence I learn, and find the lesson true, |
| Drugs poison him that so fell sick of you. |
Sonnets of William Shakespeare
Sonnet 119
|CXIX. |
|What potions have I drunk of Siren tears, |
|Distill'd from limbecks foul as hell within, |
|Applying fears to hopes and hopes to fears, |
|Still losing when I saw myself to win! |
|What wretched errors hath my heart committed, |
|Whilst it hath thought itself so blessed never! |
|How have mine eyes out of their spheres been |
|fitted |
|In the distraction of this madding fever! |
|O benefit of ill! now I find true |
|That better is by evil still made better; |
|And ruin'd love, when it is built anew, |
|Grows fairer than at first, more strong, far |
|greater. |
| So I return rebuked to my content |
| And gain by ill thrice more than I have spent. |
Sonnets of William Shakespeare
Sonnet 120
|CXX. |
|That you were once unkind befriends me now, |
|And for that sorrow which I then did feel |
|Needs must I under my transgression bow, |
|Unless my nerves were brass or hammer'd steel. |
|For if you were by my unkindness shaken |
|As I by yours, you've pass'd a hell of time, |
|And I, a tyrant, have no leisure taken |
|To weigh how once I suffered in your crime. |
|O, that our night of woe might have remember'd |
|My deepest sense, how hard true sorrow hits, |
|And soon to you, as you to me, then tender'd |
|The humble slave which wounded bosoms fits! |
| But that your trespass now becomes a fee; |
| Mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom me. |
Sonnets of William Shakespeare
Sonnet 121
|CXXI. |
|'Tis better to be vile than vile esteem'd, |
|When not to be receives reproach of being, |
|And the just pleasure lost which is so deem'd |
|Not by our feeling but by others' seeing: |
|For why should others false adulterate eyes |
|Give salutation to my sportive blood? |
|Or on my frailties why are frailer spies, |
|Which in their wills count bad what I think good?|
| |
|No, I am that I am, and they that level |
|At my abuses reckon up their own: |
|I may be straight, though they themselves be |
|bevel; |
|By their rank thoughts my deeds must not be |
|shown; |
| Unless this general evil they maintain, |
| All men are bad, and in their badness reign. |
Sonnets of William Shakespeare
Sonnet 122
|CXXII. |
|Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain |
|Full character'd with lasting memory, |
|Which shall above that idle rank remain |
|Beyond all date, even to eternity; |
|Or at the least, so long as brain and heart |
|Have faculty by nature to subsist; |
|Till each to razed oblivion yield his part |
|Of thee, thy record never can be miss'd. |
|That poor retention could not so much hold, |
|Nor need I tallies thy dear love to score; |
|Therefore to give them from me was I bold, |
|To trust those tables that receive thee more: |
| To keep an adjunct to remember thee |
| Were to import forgetfulness in me. |
Sonnets of William Shakespeare
Sonnet 123
|CXXIII. |
|No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change: |
|Thy pyramids built up with newer might |
|To me are nothing novel, nothing strange; |
|They are but dressings of a former sight. |
|Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire |
|What thou dost foist upon us that is old, |
|And rather make them born to our desire |
|Than think that we before have heard them told. |
|Thy registers and thee I both defy, |
|Not wondering at the present nor the past, |
|For thy records and what we see doth lie, |
|Made more or less by thy continual haste. |
| This I do vow and this shall ever be; |
| I will be true, despite thy scythe and thee. |
Sonnets of William Shakespeare
Sonnet 124
|CXXIV. |
|If my dear love were but the child of state, |
|It might for Fortune's bastard 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 lived for |
|crime. |
Sonnets of William Shakespeare
Sonnet 125
|CXXV. |
|Were 't aught to me I bore the canopy, |
|With my extern the outward honouring, |
|Or laid great bases for eternity, |
|Which prove more short than waste or ruining? |
|Have I not seen dwellers on form and favour |
|Lose all, and more, by paying too much rent, |
|For compound sweet forgoing simple savour, |
|Pitiful thrivers, in their gazing spent? |
|No, let me be obsequious in thy heart, |
|And take thou my oblation, poor but free, |
|Which is not mix'd with seconds, knows no art, |
|But mutual render, only me for thee. |
| Hence, thou suborn'd informer! a true soul |
| When most impeach'd stands least in thy |
|control. |
Sonnets of William Shakespeare
Sonnet 126
|CXXVI. |
|O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power |
|Dost hold Time's fickle glass, his sickle, hour; |
|Who hast by waning grown, and therein show'st |
|Thy lovers withering as thy sweet self grow'st; |
|If Nature, sovereign mistress over wrack, |
|As thou goest onwards, still will pluck thee |
|back, |
|She keeps thee to this purpose, that her skill |
|May time disgrace and wretched minutes kill. |
|Yet fear her, O thou minion of her pleasure! |
|She may detain, but not still keep, her treasure:|
| |
| Her audit, though delay'd, answer'd must be, |
| And her quietus is to render thee. |
Sonnets of William Shakespeare
Sonnet 127
|CXXVII. |
|In the old age black was not counted fair, |
|Or if it were, it bore not beauty's name; |
|But now is black beauty's successive heir, |
|And beauty slander'd with a bastard shame: |
|For since each hand hath put on nature's power, |
|Fairing the foul with art's false borrow'd face, |
|Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower, |
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