61 Shakespeare - Sonnets

'Tis better to be vile than vile esteem'd
A woman's face with Nature's own hand painted
Accuse me thus: that I have scanted all
Against my love shall be as I am now
Against that time, if ever that time come
Ah! wherefore with infection should he live
Alack! what poverty my Muse brings forth
Alas! 'tis true I have gone here and there
As a decrepit father takes delight
As an unperfect actor on the stage
As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow'st
Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press
Being your slave, what should I do but tend
Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took
But be contented: when that fell arrest
But do thy worst to steal thyself away
But wherefore do not you a mightier way
Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not
Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep
Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws
Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing
For shame! deny that thou bear'st love to any
From fairest creatures we desire increase
From you have I been absent in the spring
Full many a glorious morning have I seen
How can I then return in happy plight
How can my Muse want subject to invent
How careful was I when I took my way
How heavy do I journey on the way
How like a winter hath my absence been
How oft when thou, my music, music play'st
How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame
If my dear love were but the child of state
If the dull substance of my flesh were thought
If there be nothing new, but that which is
If thou survive my well-contented day
If thy soul check thee that I come so near
In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes
In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn
In the old age black was not counted fair
Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye
Is it thy will, thy image should keep open
Let me confess that we two must be twain
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Let not my love be call'd idolatry
Let those who are in favour with their stars
Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore
Like as, to make our appetites more keen
Lo! in the orient when the gracious light
Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch
Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest
Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage
Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate
Love is too young to know what conscience is
Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war
Mine eye hath play'd the painter and hath stell'd
Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?
My glass shall not persuade me I am old
My love is as a fever, longing still
My love is strengthen'd, though more weak in seeming
........
Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press
  _
BE wise as thou art cruel; do not press
My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain;
Lest sorrow lend me words, and words express   _
The manner of my pity-wanting pain.
If I might teach thee wit, better it were,
Though not to love, yet, love, to tell me so; -   _
As testy sick men, when their deaths be near,
No news but health from their physicians know; -
For, if I should despair, I should grow mad,   _
And in my madness might speak ill of thee:
Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad,
Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be.   _
That I may not be so, nor thou belied,
Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide.
........
Being your slave, what should I do but tend
  _
BEING your slave, what should I do but tend
Upon the hours and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend,   _
Nor services to do, till you require.
Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour,
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,   _
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour
When you have bid your servant once adieu;
Nor dare I question with my jealous thought   _
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought,
Save, where you are how happy you make those.   _

So true a fool is love that in your will,
Though you do anything, he thinks no ill.
........
Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
  _
BESHREW that heart that makes my heart to groan
For that deep wound it gives my friend and me!
Is 't not enough to torture me alone,   _
But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be?
Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken,
And my next self thou harder hast engross'd:   _
Of him, myself, and thee, I am forsaken;
A torment thrice threefold thus to be cross'd.
Prison my heart in thy steel bosom's ward,   _
But then my friend's heart let my poor heart bail;
Whoe'er keeps me, let my heart be his guard;
Thou canst not then use rigour in my jail   _

And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee,
Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.
........
Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took
  _
BETWIXT mine eye and heart a league is took
And each doth good turns now unto the other:
When that mine eye is famish'd for a look,   _
Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother,
With my love's picture then my eye doth feast,
And to the painted banquet bids my heart;   _
Another time mine eye is my heart's guest,
And in his thoughts of love doth share a part:
So, either by thy picture or my love,   _
Thyself away art present still with me;
For thou not further than my thoughts canst move,
And I am still with them and they with thee   _

Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight
Awakes my heart to heart's and eye's delight.
........
But be contented: when that fell arrest
  _
BUT be contented: when that fell arrest
Without all bail shall carry me away,
My life hath in this line some interest,   _
Which for memorial still with thee shall stay.
When thou reviewest this, thou dost review
The very part was consecrate to thee:   _
The earth can have but earth, which is his due;
My spirit is thine, the better part of me:
So then thou hast but lost the dregs of life,   _
The prey of worms, my body being dead;
The coward conquest of a wretch's knife,
Too base of thee to be remembered.   _

The worth of that is that which it contains,
And that is this, and this with thee remains.
........
But do thy worst to steal thyself away
  _
BUT do thy worst to steal thyself away
For term of life thou art assured mine;
And life no longer than thy love will stay,   _
For it depends upon that love of thine.
Then need I not to fear the worst of wrongs,
When in the least of them my life hath end.   _
I see a better state to me belongs
Than that which on thy humour doth depend:
Thou canst not vex me with inconstant mind,   _
Since that my life on thy revolt doth lie.
O! what a happy title do I find,
Happy to have thy love, happy to die   _

But what 's so blessed-fair that fears no blot?
Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not.
........
But wherefore do not you a mightier way
  _
BUT wherefore do not you a mightier way
Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time?
And fortify yourself in your decay   _
With means more blessed than my barren rime?
Now stand you on the top of happy hours,
And many maiden gardens, yet unset,   _
With virtuous wish would bear you living flowers
Much liker than your painted counterfeit:
So should the lines of life that life repair,   _
Which this, Time's pencil, or my pupil pen,
Neither in inward worth nor outward fair,
Can make you live yourself in eyes of men.   _

To give away yourself keeps yourself still
And you must live, drawn by your own sweet skill.
........
Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not
  _
CANST thou, O cruel! say I love thee not
When I against myself with thee partake?
Do I not think on thee, when I forgot   _
Am of myself, all tyrant, for thy sake?
Who hateth thee that I do call my friend?
On whom frown'st thou that I do fawn upon?   _
Nay, if thou lour'st on me, do I not spend
Revenge upon myself with present moan?
What merit do I in myself respect,   _
That is so proud thy service to despise,
When all my best doth worship thy defect,
Commanded by the motion of thine eyes?   _

But, love, hate on, for now I know thy mind
Those that can see thou lov'st, and I am blind.
........
Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep
  _
CUPID laid by his brand and fell asleep
A maid of Dian's this advantage found,
And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep   _
In a cold valley-fountain of that ground;
Which borrow'd from this holy fire of Love
A dateless lively heat, still to endure,   _
And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove
Against strange maladies a sovereign cure.
But at my mistress' eye Love's brand new-fired,   _
The boy for trial needs would touch my breast;
I, sick withal, the help of bath desired,
And thither hied, a sad distemper'd guest,   _

But found no cure: the bath for my help lies
Where Cupid got new fire, my mistress' eyes.
........
Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws
  _
DEVOURING Time, blunt thou the lion's paws
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws,   _
And burn the long-liv'd phoe nix in her blood;
Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets,
And do whate'er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,   _
To the wide world and all her fading sweets;
But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:
O! carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow,   _
Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;
Him in thy course untainted do allow
For beauty's pattern to succeeding men.   _

Yet, do thy worst, old Time: despite thy wrong,
My love shall in my verse ever live young.
........
Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing
  _
FAREWELL! thou art too dear for my possessing
And like enough thou know'st thy estimate:
The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing;   _
My bonds in thee are all determinate.
For how do I hold thee but by thy granting?
And for that riches where is my deserving?   _
The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting,
And so my patent back again is swerving.
Thyself thou gav'st, thy own worth then not knowing,   _
Or me, to whom thou gav'st it, else mistaking;
So thy great gift, upon misprision growing,
Comes home again, on better judgment making.   _

Thus have I had thee, as a dream doth flatter,
In sleep a king, but, waking, no such matter.