The Sonnets and Other Poems (26 page)
Read The Sonnets and Other Poems Online
Authors: William Shakespeare
O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power
Dost hold Time’s
fickle glass
2
, his
sickle hour
,
Who hast
by waning grown
3
, and therein show’st
Thy lovers withering as thy sweet self grow’st —
If Nature, sovereign mistress over
wrack
5
,
As thou
goest onwards
6
, still will pluck thee back,
She keeps thee to this purpose, that her skill
May Time
disgrace
8
and wretched
minutes kill
.
Yet fear her, O thou
minion
9
of her pleasure:
She may detain, but not still
keep
10
, her treasure.
Her
audit
11
, though delayed,
answered
must be,
And her
quietus
12
is to
render
thee.
( )
13
( )
In
the old age
1
black
was not counted
fair
,
Or if it were, it
bore not beauty’s name
2
.
But now is black beauty’s
successive
3
heir
And
beauty slandered with a bastard shame
4
:
For since each hand hath
put on
5
nature’s power,
Fairing the foul
6
with art’s false borrowed face,
Sweet beauty hath no
name
7
, no holy bower,
But is
profaned
8
, if not lives in disgrace.
Therefore my mistress’ brows are raven black,
Her eyes
so suited
10
, and they mourners seem
At such who,
not born fair, no beauty lack
11
,
Sland’ring creation with a false esteem
12
.
Yet so they mourn,
becoming of their woe
13
,
That every tongue says beauty should look so.
How oft, when
thou, my music
1
, music play’st
Upon that blessèd
wood
2
whose motion
sounds
With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently
sway’st
3
The
wiry concord
4
that mine ear
confounds
,
Do I envy those
jacks
5
that nimble leap
To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,
Whilst my poor lips, which should
that harvest
7
reap,
At the wood’s boldness by thee blushing stand.
To be so tickled, they would change their state
And situation with those dancing
chips
10
O’er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,
Making dead wood more blest than living lips.
Since
saucy
13
jacks so happy are in this,
Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.
Th’expense
1
of
spirit
in a
waste of shame
Is
lust in action
2
, and till action, lust
Is
perjured
3
, murd’rous, bloody,
full of blame
,
Savage, extreme,
rude
4
, cruel, not
to trust
,
Enjoyed no sooner but despisèd
straight
5
,
Past reason
6
hunted and, no sooner had,
Past reason hated as a swallowed bait
On purpose laid to make the taker mad,
Mad in pursuit and in possession so,
Had, having and in quest to have, extreme,
A bliss
in proof
11
and
proved
a very woe,
Before, a joy
proposed
12
—
behind
, a
dream
.
All this the world well knows, yet none knows well
To shun the heaven that leads men to this
hell
14
.
My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun
1
,
Coral is far more red than her lips’ red,
If snow be white, why then her breasts are
dun
3
,
If hairs be
wires
4
, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses
damasked
5
, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks,
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress
reeks
8
.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound.
I grant I never saw a
go
11
ddess go:
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any
she belied with false compare
14
.
Thou art as
tyrannous
1
,
so as thou art
,
As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel,
For well thou know’st to my
dear
3
doting heart
Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.
Yet
in good faith
5
some say, that thee behold,
Thy face hath not the power to make love
groan
6
.
To say they err I dare not be so bold,
Although I swear it to myself alone.
And to be sure that is not false I swear
A thousand groans
but
10
thinking on thy face
One on another’s neck
11
do witness bear
Thy black
12
is
fairest
in my judgement’s place
.
In nothing art thou black save in thy deeds,
And thence
this slander
14
as I think proceeds.
Thine eyes I love and they, as pitying me,
Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain,
Have put on black and loving mourners be,
Looking with
pretty ruth
4
upon my pain.
And truly not the
morning
5
sun of heaven
Better
becomes
6
the grey cheeks of the east,
Nor that
full star
7
that ushers in the even
Doth half that glory to the
sober
8
west,
As those two
mourning
9
eyes become thy face:
O, let it then as well
beseem
10
thy heart
To mourn for me, since mourning
doth thee grace
11
,
And
suit thy pity like in every part
12
.
Then will I swear beauty herself is black,
And all they
foul
14
that thy complexion lack.
Beshrew
1
that heart that makes my heart to groan
For that deep
wound
2
it gives my friend and me.
Is’t not enough to torture me alone,
But
slave to slavery
4
my sweet’st friend must be?
Me from myself thy cruel
eye
5
hath taken,
And
my next self
6
thou
harder
hast
engrossed
.
Of
7
him, myself and thee, I am
forsaken
,
A torment thrice threefold thus to be
crossed
8
.
Prison
9
my heart in thy steel bosom’s
ward
,
But then my friend’s heart let my poor heart
bail
10
,
Whoe’er
keeps
11
me, let my heart be
his
guard:
Thou canst not then use
rigour
12
in my jail.
And yet thou wilt, for I, being
pent
13
in thee,
Perforce am thine and
all that is in me
14
.
So, now I have confessed that
he
1
is thine,
And I myself am mortgaged to thy
will
2
,
Myself I’ll forfeit,
so that other mine
3
Thou wilt restore, to be my comfort still:
But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free,
For thou art covetous and he is
kind
6
.
He learned but
surety-like to write for me
7
Under that
bond
8
that him as
fast
doth bind.
The
statute
9
of thy beauty thou wilt take,
Thou
usurer
10
, that
put’st forth all to use
,
And
sue
11
a friend
came debtor
for my sake:
So him I lose through
my unkind abuse
12
.
Him have I lost, thou
hast
13
both him and me:
He
pays the whole
14
, and yet am I not free.
Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy
Will
1
,
And Will
to boot
2
, and Will in
overplus
:
More than enough am I that
vex
3
thee
still
,
To thy sweet will making addition
4
thus.
Wilt thou, whose
will is large and spacious
5
,
Not once
vouchsafe
6
to hide my
will in thine
?
Shall will in others seem
right gracious
7
,
And
in my will no fair acceptance shine
8
?
The sea all water, yet receives rain still
And in abundance addeth to his store.
So thou, being
rich in Will
11
, add to
thy Will
One will of mine
12
, to
make thy large Will more
.
Let no unkind, no fair beseechers kill
13
:
Think
all but one and me in that one Will
14
.
If thy soul
check
1
thee that I
come so near
,
Swear to thy
blind
2
soul that I was thy
Will
,
And will, thy soul knows, is
admitted there
3
:
Thus far
for love
4
my
love-suit
, sweet, fulfil.
Will
5
will
fulfil
the
treasure of thy love
,
Ay,
fill it full with wills, and my will one
6
.
In things of great
receipt
7
with ease we prove
Among a number one is reckoned none.
Then in the number let me pass
untold
9
,
Though in
thy store’s account
10
I one must be:
For nothing
11
hold
me,
so
it please thee hold
That
nothing me
12
, a
something
sweet to thee.
Make but
13
my name
thy love and love that still,
And then thou lovest me, for my name is Will.
Thou
blind
1
fool, love, what dost thou to mine eyes,
That they behold and see not what they see?
They know what beauty is, see where it
lies
3
,
Yet
what the be
4
st is take the worst to be.
If eyes
corrupt by over-partial looks
5
Be anchored in the
bay
6
where all men
ride
,
Why of eyes’ falsehood hast thou forgèd hooks,
Whereto the judgement of my heart is tied?
Why should my heart think that a
several plot
9
Which my heart knows the
wide world’s common place
10
?
Or
11
mine eyes seeing this, say this is
not
,
To put fair truth upon so foul a face
12
?
In things right true my heart and eyes have erred,
And to this
false plague
14
are they now transferred.
When my love swears that she is
made of truth
1
,
I do believe her, though I know she
lies
2
,
That
3
she might think me some untutored youth,
Unlearnèd in the world’s
false subtleties
4
.
Thus
vainly
5
thinking that she thinks me young,
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply
7
I
credit
her false-speaking tongue:
On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed.
But
wherefore
9
says she not she is
unjust
?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
O, love’s best
habit
11
is in
seeming
trust,
And age in love loves not to have years
told
12
.
Therefore I
lie
13
with her and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we
flattered
14
be.
O, call not me to justify the wrong
That thy unkindness lays upon my heart,
Wound me not with thine eye but with thy tongue
3
,
Use power
4
with power and slay me not by
art
,
Tell me thou lov’st elsewhere, but in my sight,
Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside.
What need’st thou wound with cunning when thy
might
7
Is more than my
o’erpressed
8
defence can
bide
?
Let me excuse thee: ah, my love well knows
Her
pretty looks
10
have been mine enemies,
And therefore from my face she turns my foes,
That they elsewhere might dart their injuries:
Yet do not so, but since I am near slain,
Kill me outright with looks and rid my pain.