|Being your vassal, bound to stay your leisure! |
|O, let me suffer, being at your beck, |
|The imprison'd absence of your liberty; |
|And patience, tame to sufferance, bide each cheque, |
|Without accusing you of injury. |
|Be where you list, your charter is so strong |
|That you yourself may privilege your time |
|To what you will; to you it doth belong |
|Yourself to pardon of self-doing crime. |
| I am to wait, though waiting so be hell; |
| Not blame your pleasure, be it ill or well. |
| |
Sonnets of William Shakespeare
Sonnet 59
|LIX. |
|If there be nothing new, but that which is |
|Hath been before, how are our brains beguiled, |
|Which, labouring for invention, bear amiss |
|The second burden of a former child! |
|O, that record could with a backward look, |
|Even of five hundred courses of the sun, |
|Show me your image in some antique book, |
|Since mind at first in character was done! |
|That I might see what the old world could say |
|To this composed wonder of your frame; |
|Whether we are mended, or whether better they, |
|Or whether revolution be the same. |
| O, sure I am, the wits of former days |
| To subjects worse have given admiring praise. |
Sonnets of William Shakespeare
Sonnet 60
|LX. |
|Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,|
| |
|So do our minutes hasten to their end; |
|Each changing place with that which goes before, |
|In sequent toil all forwards do contend. |
|Nativity, once in the main of light, |
|Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown'd, |
|Crooked elipses 'gainst his glory fight, |
|And Time that gave doth now his gift confound. |
|Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth |
|And delves the parallels in beauty's brow, |
|Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth, |
|And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow: |
| And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand, |
| Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand. |
Sonnets of William Shakespeare
Sonnet 61
|LXI. |
|Is it thy will thy image should keep open |
|My heavy eyelids to the weary night? |
|Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken, |
|While shadows like to thee do mock my sight? |
|Is it thy spirit that thou send'st from thee |
|So far from home into my deeds to pry, |
|To find out shames and idle hours in me, |
|The scope and tenor of thy jealousy? |
|O, no! thy love, though much, is not so great: |
|It is my love that keeps mine eye awake; |
|Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat, |
|To play the watchman ever for thy sake: |
| For thee watch I whilst thou dost wake |
|elsewhere, |
| From me far off, with others all too near. |
Sonnets of William Shakespeare
Sonnet 62
|LXII. |
|Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye |
|And all my soul and all my every part; |
|And for this sin there is no remedy, |
|It is so grounded inward in my heart. |
|Methinks no face so gracious is as mine, |
|No shape so true, no truth of such account; |
|And for myself mine own worth do define, |
|As I all other in all worths surmount. |
|But when my glass shows me myself indeed, |
|Beated and chopp'd with tann'd antiquity, |
|Mine own self-love quite contrary I read; |
|Self so self-loving were iniquity. |
| 'Tis thee, myself, that for myself I praise, |
| Painting my age with beauty of thy days. |
Sonnets of William Shakespeare
Sonnet 63
|LXIII. |
|Against my love shall be, as I am now, |
|With Time's injurious hand crush'd and o'er-worn;|
| |
|When hours have drain'd his blood and fill'd his |
|brow |
|With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn |
|Hath travell'd on to age's steepy night, |
|And all those beauties whereof now he's king |
|Are vanishing or vanish'd out of sight, |
|Stealing away the treasure of his spring; |
|For such a time do I now fortify |
|Against confounding age's cruel knife, |
|That he shall never cut from memory |
|My sweet love's beauty, though my lover's life: |
| His beauty shall in these black lines be seen, |
| And they shall live, and he in them still |
|green. |
Sonnets of William Shakespeare
Sonnet 64
|LXIV. |
|When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced |
|The rich proud cost of outworn buried age; |
|When sometime lofty towers I see down-razed |
|And brass eternal slave to mortal rage; |
|When I have seen the hungry ocean gain |
|Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, |
|And the firm soil win of the watery main, |
|Increasing store with loss and loss with store; |
|When I have seen such interchange of state, |
|Or state itself confounded to decay; |
|Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate, |
|That Time will come and take my love away. |
| This thought is as a death, which cannot choose|
| |
| But weep to have that which it fears to lose. |
Sonnets of William Shakespeare
Sonnet 65
|LXV. |
|Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless |
|sea, |
|But sad mortality o'er-sways their power, |
|How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, |
|Whose action is no stronger than a flower? |
|O, how shall summer's honey breath hold out |
|Against the wreckful siege of battering days, |
|When rocks impregnable are not so stout, |
|Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays? |
|O fearful meditation! where, alack, |
|Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie |
|hid? |
|Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back?|
| |
|Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid? |
| O, none, unless this miracle have might, |
| That in black ink my love may still shine |
|bright. |
|Sonnets of William Shakespeare |
|Sonnet 66 |
|LXVI. |
|Tired with all these, for restful death I cry, |
|As, to behold desert a beggar born, |
|And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity, |
|And purest faith unhappily forsworn, |
|And guilded honour shamefully misplaced, |
|And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted, |
|And right perfection wrongfully disgraced, |
|And strength by limping sway disabled, |
|And art made tongue-tied by authority, |
|And folly doctor-like controlling skill, |
|And simple truth miscall'd simplicity, |
|And captive good attending captain ill: |
| Tired with all these, from these would I be gone, |
| Save that, to die, I leave my love alone. |
| |
|Sonnets of William Shakespeare |
|Sonnet 67 |
|LXVII. |
|Ah! wherefore with infection should he live, |
|And with his presence grace impiety, |
|That sin by him advantage should achieve |
|And lace itself with his society? |
|Why should false painting imitate his cheek |
|And steal dead seeing of his living hue? |
|Why should poor beauty indirectly seek |
|Roses of shadow, since his rose is true? |
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