*** 981159651859
9 Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament,
8 Against this coming end you should prepare,
1 And your sweet semblance to some other give.
1 So should that beauty which you hold in lease
5 Which husbandry in honour might uphold,
9 For through the Painter must you see his skill,
6 Are windows to my breast, where-through the Sun
5 And make me travail forth without my cloak,
1 To let base clouds o'er-take me in my way,
8 The offender's sorrow lends but weak relief
5 For all the day they view things unrespected,
9 When in dead night their fair imperfect shade,
9 When swift extremity can seem but slow,
8 Towards thee I'll run, and give him leave to go.
1 That God forbid, that made me first your slave,
1 I should in thought control your times of pleasure,
5 And patience tame, to sufferance bide each check,
9 The rich proud cost of outworn buried age,
6 Increasing store with loss, and loss with store.
5 This thought is as a death which cannot choose
1 But weep to have, that which it fears to lose.
8 By seeing farther than the eye hath shown.
5 But why thy odor matcheth not thy show,
9 Death's second self that seals up all in rest.
9 Why with the time do I not glance aside
8 So all my best is dressing old words new,
1 Spending again what is already spent:
1 For as the Sun is daily new and old,
5 And under thee their poesy disperse.
9 But thou art all my art, and dost advance
6 The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show,
5 Commit to these waste blacks, and thou shalt find
1 Those children nursed, delivered from thy brain,
8 Now proud as an enjoyer, and anon
5 And by and by clean starved for a look,
9 Unless you would devise some virtuous lie,
9 And so should you, to love things nothing worth.
8 Ere beauty's dead fleece made another gay:
1 In him those holy antique hours are seen,
1 Without all ornament, it self and true,
5 Against my love shall be as I am now
9 Against confounding Age's cruel knife,
6 Upon the hours, and times of your desire?
5 Nor think the bitterness of absence sour,
1 When you have bid your servant once adieu.
8 When what I seek (my weary travel's end)^
5 As if by some instinct the wretch did know
9 And yet it may be said I loved her dearly,
9 Both find each other, and I lose both twain,
8 Anon permit the basest clouds to ride,
1 With ugly rack on his celestial face,
1 And from the for-lorn world his visage hide
5 The region cloud hath masked him from me now.
9 And in mine own love's strength seem to decay,
6 O,, learn to read what silent love hath writ,
5 And sable curls or silvered o'er with white:
1 When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
8 And nothing 'gainst Time's sieth can make defence
5 Thou may'st call thine, when thou from youth convert'st,
9 She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby,
9 Which to repair should be thy chief desire:
8 That thou consume'st thy self in single life?
1 Ah; if thou issueless shalt hap to die,
1 The world will wail thee like a makeless wife,
5 Look what an unthrift in the world doth spend
9 Or else receive'st with pleasure thine annoy?
6 Strikes each in each by mutual ordering;
5 Lo in the Orient when the gracious light,
1 Lifts up his burning head, each under eye
8 Like feeble age he reeleth from the day,
5 Then let not winter's ragged hand deface,
9 If ten of thine ten times refigured thee,
9 For never resting time leads Summer on,
8 But flowers distilled though they with winter meet,
1 Leese but their show, their substance still lives sweet.
1 Uuthrifty loveliness why dost thou spend,
5 The bounteous largess given thee to give?
9 Look in thy glass and tell the face thou view'st,
6 Or who is he so fond will be the tomb,
5 Despite of wrinkles this thy golden time.
1 But if thou live remembered not to be,
8 To say within thine own deep sunken eyes,
5 Proving his beauty by succession thine.
9 Or say with Princes if it shall go well
9 Of public honour and proud titles boast,
8 After a thousand victories once foiled,
1 Is from the book of honour razed quite,
1 And all the rest forgot for which he toiled:
5 Clouds and eclipses stain both Moon and Sun,
9 Such civil war is in my love and hate,
6 From limits far remote, where thou dost stay,
5 But ah, thought kills me that I am not thought
1 To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone,
8 For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure.
5 So is the time that keeps you as my chest,
9 The second burthen of a former child?
9 Oh sure I am the wits of former days,
8 When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
1 Nor gates of steel so strong but time decays?
1 O,, fearful meditation, where alack,
5 That in black ink my love may still shine bright.
9 Thou hast passed by the ambush of young days,
6 But be contented when that fell arrest,
5 The very part was consecrate to thee,
1 The earth can have but earth, which is his due,
8 No Longer mourn for me when I am dead,
5 The hand that writ it, for I love you so,
9 Ah wherefore with infection should he live,
9 Beggared of blood to blush through lively veins,
8 It is so grounded inward in my heart.
1 Me thinks no face so gracious is as mine,
1 No shape so true, no truth of such account,
5 Mine own self love quite contrary I read
9 Thy hungry eyes, even till they wink with fullness,
6 Return of love, more blest may be the view.
5 When as thy love hath cast his utmost sum,
1 Called to that audit by advised respects,
8 To guard the lawful reasons on thy part,
5 Thy beauty, and thy years full well befits,
9 Where thou art forced to break a two-fold truth:
9 Reserve them for my love, not for their rime,
8 My glass shall not persuade me I am old,
1 So long as youth and thou are of one date,
1 But when in thee time's furrows I behold,
5 How can I then be elder than thou art?
9 Who heaven it self for ornament doth use,
6 O,, let me true in love but truly write,
5 I will not praise that purpose not to sell.
1 A Woman's face with nature's own hand painted,
8 And for a woman were thou first created,
5 Mine be thy love and thy love's use their treasure.
9 O,, carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow,
9 And Summer's lease hath all too short a date:
8 When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
1 So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
1 So long lives this, and this gives life to thee,
5 If I could write the beauty of your eyes,
9 You should live twice in it, and in my rime.
6 And many maiden gardens yet unset,
5 Neither in inward worth nor outward fair
1 Can make you live your self in eyes of men,
8 Cheered and checked even by the self-same sky:
5 Where wasteful time debateth with decay
9 May make seem bare, in wanting words to show it;
9 Let me confess that we two must be twain,
8 I may not ever-more acknowledge thee,
1 Least my bewailed guilt should do thee shame,
1 Nor thou with public kindness honour me,
5 Are both with thee, where ever I abide,
9 Who even but now come back again assured,
6 Since every one, hath every one, one shade,
5 And you in _Grecian_ tires are painted new:
1 Speak of the spring, and foison of the year,
8 Each changing place with that which goes before,
5 And time that gave, doth now his gift confound.
9 And needy Nothing trimmed in jollity,
9 And captive-good attending Captain ill.
8 So far from home into my deeds to pry,
1 To find out shames and idle hours in me,
1 The scope and tenure of thy Jealousy?^
5 For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,
9 The living record of your memory.
6 You live in this, and dwell in lovers' eyes.
5 But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are,
1 Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief,
8 For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear.
5 Then if for my love, thou my love receive'st,
9 Kill me with spites yet we must not be foes.
9 Thou art the grave where buried love doth live,
8 I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
1 And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:
1 Then can I drown an eye (un-used to flow)
5 And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
9 Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
6 (^Like to the Lark at break of day arising)^
5 That am debarred the benefit of rest?^
1 When day's oppression is not eased by night,
8 So flatter I the swart complexioned night,
5 The dear repose for limbs with travail tired,
9 Which like a jewel (^hung in ghastly night)
9 Or any of these all, or all, or more
8 This wish I have, then ten times happy me.
1 Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,
1 How to divide the conquest of thy sight,
5 But the defendant doth that plea deny,
9 By that sweet ornament which truth doth give,
6 When summer's breath their masked buds discloses:
5 And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,
1 When that shall vade, by verse distills your truth.
8 And in his thoughts of love doth share a part.
5 Or if they sleep, thy picture in my sight
9 That due to thee which thou deserv'st alone:
9 Thine own sweet argument, to excellent,
8 And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth
1 Eternal numbers to out-live long date.
1 If my slight Muse do please these curious days,
5 And my sick Muse doth give an other place.
9 Then thank him not for that which he doth say,
6 And every humor hath his adjunct pleasure,
5 Richer than wealth, prouder than garments' cost,
1 Of more delight than Hawks and Horses be:
8 Our love was new, and then but in the spring,
5 Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,
9 You are my All the world, and I must strive,
9 That all the world besides me thinks y'are dead.
8 But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace.
1 Therefore my Mistress' eyes are Raven black,
1 Her eyes so suited, and they mourners' seem,
5 So now I have confessed that he is thine,
9 Thou usurer that put'st forth all to use,
6 My tongue-tide patience with too much disdain:
5 As testy sick-men when their deaths be near,
1 No news but health from their Physicians know.
8 Breathed forth the sound that said I hate,
5 Was used in giving gentle dome:
9 When I against my self with thee partake:
9 When all my best doth worship thy defect,
8 But why of two oaths' breach do I accuse thee,
1 When I break twenty: I am perjured most,
1 For all my vows are oaths but to misuse thee:
5 Or made them swear against the thing they see.
9 And so the General of hot desire,
6 Came there for cure and this by that I prove,
5 In a cold valley-fountain of that ground:
1 Which borrowed from this holy fire of love,
8 But found no cure, the bath for my help lies,
5 Least guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove.
9 No want of conscience hold it that I call,
9 Love's eye is not so true as all men's: no,
8 Which like two spirits do suggest me still,
1 The better angel is a man right fair:
1 The worser spirit a woman coloured ill.
5 And whether that my angel be turned fiend,
9 Use power with power, and slay me not by Art,
6 Her pretty looks have been mine enemies,
5 Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
1 For that deep wound it gives my friend and me;
8 But then my friend's heart let my poor heart bale,
5 That you were once unkind be-friends me now,
9 My deepest sense, how hard true sorrow hits,
9 Thence comes it that my name receives a brand,
8 Pity me then dear friend, and I assure ye,
1 Even that your pity is enough to cure me.
1 Oh,, truant Muse what shall be thy amends,
5 Truth needs no colour with his colour fixed,
9 Then hate me when thou wilt, if ever, now,
6 Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
5 At first the very worst of fortune's might.
1 And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
8 As I'll my self disgrace, knowing thy will,
5 And haply of our old acquaintance tell.
9 Of faults concealed, wherein I am attainted:
9 And like enough thou know'st thy estimate,
8 Or me to whom thou gave'st it, else mistaking,
1 So thy great gift upon misprision growing,
1 Comes home again, on better judgement making.
5 That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse,
9 I was not sick of any fear from thence.
6 And precious phrase by all the Muses filled.
5 Hearing you praised, I say 'tis so, 'tis true,
1 And to the most of praise add some-thing more,
8 Which should example where your equal grew,
5 Let him but copy what in you is writ,
9 The barren tender of a Poet's debt:
9 There lives more life in one of your fair eyes,
8 And therefore art enforced to seek anew,
1 Some fresher stamp of the time bettering days.
1 And do so love, yet when they have devised,
5 Where cheeks need blood, in thee it is abused.
9 Your monument shall be my gentle verse,
6 O,, How I faint when I of you do write,
5 The humble as the proudest sail doth bear,
1 My saucy bark (^inferior far to his)^
8 But do thy worst to steal thy self away,
5 When in the least of them my life hath end,
9 Alack what poverty my Muse brings forth,
9 To mar the subject that before was well,
8 Seems seeing, but effectually is out:
1 For it no form delivers to the heart
1 Of bird, of flower, or shape which it doth lack,
5 The mountain, or the sea, the day, or night:
9 Give salutation to my sportive blood?
6 By their rank thoughts, my deeds must not be shown
5 With thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway'st,
1 The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,
8 Making dead wood more blest than living lips,
5 More than enough am I that vex thee still,
9 One will of mine to make thy large _Will_ more.
9 Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
8 Poor soul the center of my sinful earth,
1 My sinful earth these rebel powers that thee array,
1 Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth
5 Eat up thy charge? is this thy body's end?
9 To make me give the lie to my true sight,
6 Who taught thee how to make me love thee more,
5 More worthy I to be beloved of thee.
1 My love is as a fever longing still,
8 Past cure I am, now Reason is past care,
5 Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.
9 So run'st thou after that which flies from thee,
9 Unlearned in the world's false subtleties.
8 And age in love, loves not to have years told.
1 Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,
1 And in our faults by lies we flattered be.
5 And truly not the morning Sun of Heaven
9 And all they foul that thy complexion lack.
6 As thou go'st onwards still will pluck thee back,
5 Her _Audit_ (though delayed)^ answered must be,
1 And her _Quietus_ is to render thee.
8 In the distraction of this madding fever?
5 So I return rebuked to my content,
9 And worse essays proved thee my best of love,
9 Spend thou thy fury on some worthless song,
8 If any, be a _Satire_ to decay,
1 And make time's spoils despised everywhere.
1 Give my love fame faster than time wastes life,
5 Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells?^
9 A vengeful canker eat him up to death.
6 That heavy _Saturn_ laughed and leaped with him.
5 Nor did I wonder at the Lily's white,
1 Nor praise the deep vermilion in the Rose,
8 What old December's bareness everywhere?
5 Yet this abundant issue seemed to me,
9 Thou make'st faults graces, that to thee resort:
9 But do not so, I love thee in such sort,
8 Cannot dispraise, but in a kind of praise,
1 Naming thy name, blesses an ill report.
1 Oh what a mansion have those vices got,
5 The hardest knife ill used doth lose his edge.
9 The summer's flower is to the summer sweet,
6 So shall I live, supposing thou art true,
5 Therefore in that I cannot know thy change,
1 In many's looks, the false heart's history
8 To me fair friend you never can be old,
5 In process of the seasons have I seen,
9 Or whether doth my mind being crowned with you
9 And my great mind most kingly drinks it up,
8 Beyond all date even to eternity.
1 Or at the least, so long as brain and heart
1 Have faculty by nature to subsist,
5 Therefore to give them from me was I bold,
9 Past reason hunted, and no sooner had
6 Before a joy proposed behind a dream,
5 And will thy soul knows is admitted there,
1 Thus far for love, my love-suit sweet fulfill.
8 That nothing me, a some-thing sweet to thee.
5 O,, but with mine, compare thou thine own state,
9 Thy pity may deserve to pitied be.
9 Why of eyes' falsehood hast thou forged hooks,
8 Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art,
1 As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel;
1 For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart
5 Although I swear it to my self alone.
9 Or laid great bases for eternity,
6 No, let me be obsequious in thy heart,
5 When most impeached, stands least in thy control.
1 Like as to make our appetite more keen
8 Thus policy in love to anticipate
5 Drugs poison him that so fell sick of you.
9 Never believe though in my nature reigned,
9 That may express my love, or thy dear merit?
8 But makes antiquity for aye his page,
1 Finding the first conceit of love there bred,
1 Where time and outward form would show it dead,
5 The mortal Moon hath her eclipse endured,
9 When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent.
6 Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
5 And for they looked but with divining eyes,
1 They had not still enough your worth to sing:
8 Still constant in a wondrous excellence,
5 And in this change is my invention spent,
9 Creep in twixt vows, and change decrees of Kings,
9 No! Time, thou shall not boast that I do change,
8 Thy registers and thee I both defy,
1 Not wondering at the present, nor the past,
1 For thy records, and what we see doth lie,
5 Coral is far more red, than her lips red,
9 I grant I never saw a goddess go,
6 As subject to time's love, or to time's hate,
5 Whereto the inviting time our fashion calls:
1 It fears not policy that _Heretic_,
8 Forgot upon your dearest love to call,
5 Which should transport me farthest from your sight.
9 Which alters when it alteration finds,
9 But bears it out even to the edge of doom:
*** 3185994455
3 But as the riper should by time decease,
1 His tender heir might bear his memory:
8 And tender churl makes waste in niggarding:
5 Against this coming end you should prepare,
9 And barren rage of death's eternal cold?
9 Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,
4 Are windows to my breast, where-through the Sun
4 Why did'st thou promise such a beauteous day,
5 To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face,
5 The offender's sorrow lends but weak relief
3 And they are rich, and ransom all ill deeds.
1 When most I wink then do mine eyes best see,
8 How would (^I say)^ mine eyes be blessed made,
5 And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me,
9 Then can no horse with my desire keep pace,
9 Being your vassal bound to stay your leisure.
4 Without accusing you of injury.
4 Your self to pardon of self-doing crime.
5 When sometime lofty towers I see down razed,
5 Increasing store with loss, and loss with store.
3 Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate
1 That Time will come and take my love away.
8 But those same tongues that give thee so thine own,
5 Then churls their thoughts (although their eyes were kind)
9 As after Sun-set fadeth in the West,
9 Why is my verse so barren of new pride?^
4 Why write I still all one, ever the same,
4 O,, know sweet love I always write of you,
5 So is my love still telling what is told,
5 Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing,
3 And given grace a double Majesty.
1 Yet be most proud of that which I compile,
8 The vacant leaves thy mind's imprint will bear,
5 Time's thievish progress to eternity.
9 And for the peace of you I hold such strife,
9 Save what is had, or must from you be took.
4 What merit lived in me that you should love
4 To do more for me than mine own desert,
5 My name be buried where my body is,
5 When beauty lived and died as flowers do now,
3 Before the golden tresses of the dead,
1 The right of sepulchers, were shorn away,
8 To show false Art what beauty was of yore.
5 Hath travailed on to Age's steepy night,
9 And they shall live, and he in them still green.
9 Nor dare I question with my jealous thought,
4 So true a fool is love, that in your Will,
4 Doth teach that ease and that repose to say
5 His rider loved not speed being made from thee:
5 For that same groan doth put this in my mind,
3 And yet it may be said I loved her dearly,
1 That she hath thee is of my wailing chief,
8 Both find each other, and I lose both twain,
5 Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye,
9 But out alack, he was but one hour mine,
9 The perfect ceremony of love's right,
4 And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,
4 To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit.
5 When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
5 That thou among the wastes of time must go,
3 And nothing 'gainst Time's sieth can make defence
1 Save breed to brave him, when he takes thee hence.
8 And threescore year would make the world away:
5 She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby,
9 Which to repair should be thy chief desire:
9 Ah; if thou issueless shalt hap to die,
4 When every private widow well may keep,
4 But beauty's waste hath in the world an end,
5 Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy:
5 They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
3 Strikes each in each by mutual ordering;
1 Resembling sire, and child, and happy mother,
8 And having climbed the steep up heavenly hill,
5 Like feeble age he reeleth from the day,
9 That use is not forbidden usury,
9 To be death's conquest and make worms thine heir.
4 And that unfair which fairly doth excel:
4 Beauty o'er-snowed and bareness every where,
5 But flowers distilled though they with winter meet,
5 And being frank she lends to those are free:
3 Profitless usurer why dost thou use
1 So great a sum of sums yet can'st not live?
8 Now is the time that face should form another,
5 Or who is he so fond will be the tomb,
9 And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
9 Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse
4 Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck,
4 Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell;
5 And constant stars in them I read such art
5 Let those who are in favor with their stars,
3 Unlooked for joy in that I honour most;
1 Great Princes' favorites their fair leaves spread,
8 Then happy I that love and am beloved
5 And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.
9 That I an accessary needs must be,
9 As soon as think the place where he would be.
4 I must attend, time's leisure with my moan.
4 Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure,
5 Like stones of worth they thinly placed are,
5 By new unfolding his imprisoned pride.
3 If there be nothing new, but that which is,
1 Hath been before, how are our brains beguiled,
8 To this composed wonder of your frame,
5 Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,
9 Shall time's best Jewel from time's chest lie hid?
9 So thou be good, slander doth but approve,
4 Thou hast passed by the ambush of young days,
4 If some suspect of ill masked not thy show,
5 Which for memorial still with thee shall stay.
5 So then thou hast but lost the dregs of life,
3 To base of thee to be remembered,
1 The worth of that, is that which it contains,
8 That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,
5 But let your love even with my life decay.
9 Why should poor beauty indirectly seek,
9 And all my soul, and all my every part;
4 No shape so true, no truth of such account,
4 Beated and chopped with tanned antiquity,
5 Sweet love renew thy force, be it not said
5 Thy hungry eyes, even till they wink with fullness,
3 Let this sad _Interim_ like the Ocean be
1 Which parts the shore, where two contracted new,
8 Called to that audit by advised respects,
5 Against that time do I ensconce me here
9 For still temptation follows where thou art.
9 Hers by thy beauty tempting her to thee,
4 And shalt by fortune once more re-survey:
4 Reserve them for my love, not for their rime,
5 To march in ranks of better equipage:
5 But when in thee time's furrows I behold,
3 Is but the seemly raiment of my heart,
1 Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me,
8 So is it not with me as with that Muse,
5 With Sun and Moon, with earth and sea's rich gems:
9 A Woman's face with nature's own hand painted,
9 Till nature as she wrought thee fell a doting,
4 Mine be thy love and thy love's use their treasure.
4 And burn the long lived Phoenix in her blood,
5 O,, carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow,
5 My love shall in my verse ever live young.
3 Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
1 And Summer's lease hath all too short a date:
8 When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
5 Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb
9 And stretched meter of an Antique song.
9 With virtuous wish would bear your living flowers,
4 Neither in inward worth nor outward fair
4 When I consider every thing that grows
5 Cheered and checked even by the self-same sky:
5 Where wasteful time debateth with decay
3 As he takes from you, I ingraft you new.
1 Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage
8 Till whatsoever star that guides my moving,
5 Till then, not show my head where thou may prove me
9 I may not ever-more acknowledge thee,
9 These present absent with swift motion slide.
4 Sinks down to death, oppressed with melancholy.
4 Of their fair health, recounting it to me.
5 Since every one, hath every one, one shade,
5 And you in _Grecian_ tires are painted new:
3 The other as your bounty doth appear,
1 And you in every blessed shape we know.
8 Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crowned,
5 Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,
9 And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
9 Is it thy will, thy Image should keep open
4 Is it thy spirit that thou send'st from thee
4 O no, thy love though much, is not so great,
5 From me far off, with others all too near.
5 When wasteful war shall _Statues_ over-turn,
3 The living record of your memory.
1 'Gainst death, and all oblivious enmity
8 That to my use it might un-used stay
5 Art left the prey of every vulgar thief.
9 No love, my love, that thou may true love call,
9 To bear love's wrong, than hate's known injury.
4 Which I by lacking have supposed dead,
4 Hath dear religious love stolen from mine eye,
5 Who all their parts of me to thee did give,
5 I summon up remembrance of things past,
3 Then can I drown an eye (un-used to flow)
1 For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
8 All losses are restored, and sorrows end.
5 Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
9 That then I scorn to change my state with Kings.
9 I tell the Day to please him thou art bright,
4 But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,
4 But then begins a journey in my head
5 Looking on darkness which the blind do see.
5 Lo thus by day my limbs, by night my mind,
3 To see his active child do deeds of youth,
1 So I, made lame by Fortune's dearest spite
8 That I in thy abundance am sufficed,
5 How to divide the conquest of thy sight,
9 And by their verdict is determined
9 As the perfumed tincture of the Roses,
4 They live unwooed, and unrespected fade,
4 When that shall vade, by verse distills your truth.
5 With my love's picture then my eye doth feast,
5 Thy self away, are present still with me,
3 Or if they sleep, thy picture in my sight
1 Awakes my heart, to heart's and eye's delight.
8 That due to thee which thou deserv'st alone:
5 And that thou teach'st how to make one twain,
9 When thou thy self dost give invention light?
9 But now my gracious numbers are decayed,
4 Yet what of thee thy Poet doth invent,
4 And found it in thy cheek: he can afford
5 Some in their wealth, some in their bodies' force,
5 But these particulars are not my measure,
3 Richer than wealth, prouder than garments' cost,
1 Of more delight than Hawks and Horses be:
8 Our love was new, and then but in the spring,
5 Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,
9 You are my All the world, and I must strive,
9 That all the world besides me thinks y'are dead.
4 And Beauty slandered with a bastard shame,
4 But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace.
5 Yet so they mourn becoming of their woe,
5 Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still:
3 He learned but surety-like to write for me,
1 Under that bond that him as fast doth bind.
8 My tongue-tide patience with too much disdain:
5 As testy sick-men when their deaths be near,
9 Breathed forth the sound that said I hate,
9 Doth follow night who like a fiend
4 Can'st thou,, O cruel, say I love thee not,
4 Who hateth thee that I do call my friend,
5 That is so proud thy service to despise,
5 In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn,
3 In vowing new hate after new love bearing:
1 But why of two oaths' breach do I accuse thee,
8 For I have sworn thee fair: more perjured eye,
5 Came tripping by, but in her maiden hand,
9 Came there for cure and this by that I prove,
9 Against strange maladies a sovereign cure:
4 And thither hied a sad distempered guest.
4 Yet who knows not conscience is born of love,
5 My soul doth tell my body that he may,
5 To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.
3 O Me! what eyes hath love put in my head,
1 Which have no correspondence with true sight,
8 That is so vexed with watching and with tears?^
5 Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
9 Suspect I may, yet not directly tell,
9 Tell me thou love'st else-where; but in my sight,
4 Let me excuse thee, ah my love well knows,
4 Yet do not so, but since I am near slain,
5 But slave to slavery my sweetest friend must be.
5 Prison my heart in thy steel bosom's ward,
3 Thou can'st not then use rigor in my Jail.
1 And yet thou wilt, for I being pent in thee,
8 And I a tyrant have no leisure taken
5 The humble salve, which wounded bosoms fits!
9 To what it works in, like the Dyer's hand,
9 For thy neglect of truth in beauty died?
4 Truth needs no colour with his colour fixed,
4 Excuse not silence so, for it lies in thou,
5 Then hate me when thou wilt, if ever, now,
5 Come in the rearward of a conquered woe,
3 If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
1 When other petty griefs have done their spite,
8 Against thy reasons making no defence.
5 Be absent from thy walks and in my tongue,
9 And prove thee virtuous, though thou art forsworn:
9 Such is my love, to thee I so belong,
4 The Charter of thy worth gives thee releasing:
4 The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting,
5 Comes home again, on better judgement making.
5 That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse,
3 Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead?
1 No, neither he, nor his compeers by night
8 My tongue-tide Muse in manners holds her still,
5 And like unlettered clerk still cry Amen,
9 Who is it that says most, which can say more,
9 Not making worse what nature made so clear,
4 Being fond on praise, which makes your praises worse.
4 The barren tender of a Poet's debt:
5 This silence for my sin you did impute,
5 Than both your Poets can in praise devise.
3 The dedicated words which writers use
1 Of their fair subject, blessing every book.
8 In true plain words, by thy true telling friend.
5 From hence your memory death cannot take,
9 When all the breathers of this world are dead,
9 My saucy bark (^inferior far to his)^
4 Or (being wrecked)^ I am a worthless boat,
4 But do thy worst to steal thy self away,
5 When in the least of them my life hath end,
5 Oh what a happy title do I find,
3 Thou may'st be false, and yet I know it not.
1 Alack what poverty my Muse brings forth,
8 Were it not sinful then striving to mend,
5 Your own glass shows you, when you look in it.
9 For if it see the rudest or gentlest sight,
9 Not by our feeling, but by others' seeing.
4 Which in their wills count bad what I think good?
4 By their rank thoughts, my deeds must not be shown
5 With thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway'st,
5 At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand.
3 O'er whom their fingers walk with gentle gate,
1 Making dead wood more blest than living lips,
8 Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine,
5 So thou being rich in _Will_ add to thy _Will_,
9 Nor tender feeling to base touches prone,
9 Poor soul the center of my sinful earth,
4 Why so large cost having so short a lease,
4 Then soul live thou upon thy servant's loss,
5 And death once dead, there's no more dying then.
5 Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill,
3 That in my mind thy worst all best exceeds?^
1 Who taught thee how to make me love thee more,
8 Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
5 Desire is death, which Physic did except.
9 Sets down her babe and makes all swift dispatch
9 And play the mother's part kiss me, be kind.
4 I do believe her though I know she lies,
4 Although she knows my days are past the best,
5 O,, love's best habit is in seeming trust,
5 Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain,
3 And truly not the morning Sun of Heaven
1 Better becomes the grey cheeks of the East,
8 And all they foul that thy complexion lack.
5 If Nature (sovereign mistress over wrack)
9 Distilled from Limbecks foul as hell within,
9 And ruined love when it is built anew
4 Alas 'tis true, I have gone here and there,
4 Most true it is, that I have looked on truth
5 Mine appetite I never more will grind
5 Where art thou Muse that thou forget so long,
3 Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light.
1 Return forgetful Muse, and straight redeem,
8 Give my love fame faster than time wastes life,
5 Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells?^
9 A vengeful canker eat him up to death.
9 Could make me any summer's story tell:
4 They were but sweet, but figures of delight:
4 How like a Winter hath my absence been
5 The teeming Autumn big with rich increase,
5 For Summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
3 That leaves look pale, dreading the Winter's near.
1 Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness,
8 How many Lambs might the stern Wolf betray,
5 As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.
9 Oh what a mansion have those vices got,
9 Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow:
4 Others, but stewards of their excellence:
4 The basest weed out-braves his dignity:
5 May still seem love to me, though altered new:
5 Is writ in moods and frowns and wrinkles strange.
3 What e'er thy thoughts, or thy heart's workings be,
1 Thy looks should nothing thence, but sweetness tell.
8 In process of the seasons have I seen,
5 So your sweet hew, which me thinks still doth stand
9 Such cherubins as your sweet self resemble,
9 Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain
4 Or at the least, so long as brain and heart
4 That poor retention could not so much hold,
5 Were to import forgetfulness in me.
5 Enjoyed no sooner but despised straight,
3 On purpose laid to make the taker mad.
1 Mad In pursuit and in possession so,
8 And will thy soul knows is admitted there,
5 Among a number one is reckoned none.
9 O,, but with mine, compare thou thine own state,
9 Thy pity may deserve to pitied be.
4 That they behold and see not what they see:
4 Be anchored in the bay where all men ride,
5 Or mine eyes seeing this, say this is not
5 As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel;
3 Yet in good faith some say that thee behold,
1 Thy face hath not the power to make love groan;
8 And thence this slander as I think proceeds.
5 Have I not seen dwellers on form and favor
9 When most impeached, stands least in thy control.
9 Thus policy in love to anticipate
4 But thence I learn and find the lesson true,
4 As easy might I from my self depart,
5 So that my self bring water for my stain,
5 For nothing this wide Universe I call,
3 Which hath not figured to thee my true spirit,
1 What's new to speak, what now to register,
8 Nor gives to necessary wrinkles place,
5 Of the wide world, dreaming on things to come,
9 Since spite of him I'll live in this poor rime,
9 Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
4 Of this our time, all you prefiguring,
4 Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
5 Kind is my love today, tomorrow kind,
5 Fair, kind and true, varying to other words,
3 Fair, kind, and true, have often lived alone.
1 Which three till now, never kept seat in one.
8 Divert strong minds to the course of altering things:
5 Love is a Babe, then might I not say so
9 Than think that we before have heard them told:
9 If snow be white, why,, then her breasts are dun:
4 And in some perfumes is there more delight,
4 I grant I never saw a goddess go,
5 It might for Fortune's bastard be unfathered,
5 Under the blow of thralled discontent,
3 Which works on leases of short numbered hours,
1 But all alone stands hugely politic,
8 That I have frequent been with unknown minds,
5 And on just proof surmise, accumulate,
9 O no, it is an ever fixed mark
9 I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
1 His tender heir might bear his memory:
8 And tender churl makes waste in niggarding:
5 Against this coming end you should prepare,
9 And barren rage of death's eternal cold?
9 Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,
4 Are windows to my breast, where-through the Sun
4 Why did'st thou promise such a beauteous day,
5 To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face,
5 The offender's sorrow lends but weak relief
3 And they are rich, and ransom all ill deeds.
1 When most I wink then do mine eyes best see,
8 How would (^I say)^ mine eyes be blessed made,
5 And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me,
9 Then can no horse with my desire keep pace,
9 Being your vassal bound to stay your leisure.
4 Without accusing you of injury.
4 Your self to pardon of self-doing crime.
5 When sometime lofty towers I see down razed,
5 Increasing store with loss, and loss with store.
3 Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate
1 That Time will come and take my love away.
8 But those same tongues that give thee so thine own,
5 Then churls their thoughts (although their eyes were kind)
9 As after Sun-set fadeth in the West,
9 Why is my verse so barren of new pride?^
4 Why write I still all one, ever the same,
4 O,, know sweet love I always write of you,
5 So is my love still telling what is told,
5 Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing,
3 And given grace a double Majesty.
1 Yet be most proud of that which I compile,
8 The vacant leaves thy mind's imprint will bear,
5 Time's thievish progress to eternity.
9 And for the peace of you I hold such strife,
9 Save what is had, or must from you be took.
4 What merit lived in me that you should love
4 To do more for me than mine own desert,
5 My name be buried where my body is,
5 When beauty lived and died as flowers do now,
3 Before the golden tresses of the dead,
1 The right of sepulchers, were shorn away,
8 To show false Art what beauty was of yore.
5 Hath travailed on to Age's steepy night,
9 And they shall live, and he in them still green.
9 Nor dare I question with my jealous thought,
4 So true a fool is love, that in your Will,
4 Doth teach that ease and that repose to say
5 His rider loved not speed being made from thee:
5 For that same groan doth put this in my mind,
3 And yet it may be said I loved her dearly,
1 That she hath thee is of my wailing chief,
8 Both find each other, and I lose both twain,
5 Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye,
9 But out alack, he was but one hour mine,
9 The perfect ceremony of love's right,
4 And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,
4 To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit.
5 When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
5 That thou among the wastes of time must go,
3 And nothing 'gainst Time's sieth can make defence
1 Save breed to brave him, when he takes thee hence.
8 And threescore year would make the world away:
5 She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby,
9 Which to repair should be thy chief desire:
9 Ah; if thou issueless shalt hap to die,
4 When every private widow well may keep,
4 But beauty's waste hath in the world an end,
5 Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy:
5 They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
3 Strikes each in each by mutual ordering;
1 Resembling sire, and child, and happy mother,
8 And having climbed the steep up heavenly hill,
5 Like feeble age he reeleth from the day,
9 That use is not forbidden usury,
9 To be death's conquest and make worms thine heir.
4 And that unfair which fairly doth excel:
4 Beauty o'er-snowed and bareness every where,
5 But flowers distilled though they with winter meet,
5 And being frank she lends to those are free:
3 Profitless usurer why dost thou use
1 So great a sum of sums yet can'st not live?
8 Now is the time that face should form another,
5 Or who is he so fond will be the tomb,
9 And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
9 Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse
4 Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck,
4 Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell;
5 And constant stars in them I read such art
5 Let those who are in favor with their stars,
3 Unlooked for joy in that I honour most;
1 Great Princes' favorites their fair leaves spread,
8 Then happy I that love and am beloved
5 And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.
9 That I an accessary needs must be,
9 As soon as think the place where he would be.
4 I must attend, time's leisure with my moan.
4 Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure,
5 Like stones of worth they thinly placed are,
5 By new unfolding his imprisoned pride.
3 If there be nothing new, but that which is,
1 Hath been before, how are our brains beguiled,
8 To this composed wonder of your frame,
5 Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,
9 Shall time's best Jewel from time's chest lie hid?
9 So thou be good, slander doth but approve,
4 Thou hast passed by the ambush of young days,
4 If some suspect of ill masked not thy show,
5 Which for memorial still with thee shall stay.
5 So then thou hast but lost the dregs of life,
3 To base of thee to be remembered,
1 The worth of that, is that which it contains,
8 That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,
5 But let your love even with my life decay.
9 Why should poor beauty indirectly seek,
9 And all my soul, and all my every part;
4 No shape so true, no truth of such account,
4 Beated and chopped with tanned antiquity,
5 Sweet love renew thy force, be it not said
5 Thy hungry eyes, even till they wink with fullness,
3 Let this sad _Interim_ like the Ocean be
1 Which parts the shore, where two contracted new,
8 Called to that audit by advised respects,
5 Against that time do I ensconce me here
9 For still temptation follows where thou art.
9 Hers by thy beauty tempting her to thee,
4 And shalt by fortune once more re-survey:
4 Reserve them for my love, not for their rime,
5 To march in ranks of better equipage:
5 But when in thee time's furrows I behold,
3 Is but the seemly raiment of my heart,
1 Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me,
8 So is it not with me as with that Muse,
5 With Sun and Moon, with earth and sea's rich gems:
9 A Woman's face with nature's own hand painted,
9 Till nature as she wrought thee fell a doting,
4 Mine be thy love and thy love's use their treasure.
4 And burn the long lived Phoenix in her blood,
5 O,, carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow,
5 My love shall in my verse ever live young.
3 Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
1 And Summer's lease hath all too short a date:
8 When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
5 Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb
9 And stretched meter of an Antique song.
9 With virtuous wish would bear your living flowers,
4 Neither in inward worth nor outward fair
4 When I consider every thing that grows
5 Cheered and checked even by the self-same sky:
5 Where wasteful time debateth with decay
3 As he takes from you, I ingraft you new.
1 Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage
8 Till whatsoever star that guides my moving,
5 Till then, not show my head where thou may prove me
9 I may not ever-more acknowledge thee,
9 These present absent with swift motion slide.
4 Sinks down to death, oppressed with melancholy.
4 Of their fair health, recounting it to me.
5 Since every one, hath every one, one shade,
5 And you in _Grecian_ tires are painted new:
3 The other as your bounty doth appear,
1 And you in every blessed shape we know.
8 Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crowned,
5 Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,
9 And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
9 Is it thy will, thy Image should keep open
4 Is it thy spirit that thou send'st from thee
4 O no, thy love though much, is not so great,
5 From me far off, with others all too near.
5 When wasteful war shall _Statues_ over-turn,
3 The living record of your memory.
1 'Gainst death, and all oblivious enmity
8 That to my use it might un-used stay
5 Art left the prey of every vulgar thief.
9 No love, my love, that thou may true love call,
9 To bear love's wrong, than hate's known injury.
4 Which I by lacking have supposed dead,
4 Hath dear religious love stolen from mine eye,
5 Who all their parts of me to thee did give,
5 I summon up remembrance of things past,
3 Then can I drown an eye (un-used to flow)
1 For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
8 All losses are restored, and sorrows end.
5 Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
9 That then I scorn to change my state with Kings.
9 I tell the Day to please him thou art bright,
4 But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,
4 But then begins a journey in my head
5 Looking on darkness which the blind do see.
5 Lo thus by day my limbs, by night my mind,
3 To see his active child do deeds of youth,
1 So I, made lame by Fortune's dearest spite
8 That I in thy abundance am sufficed,
5 How to divide the conquest of thy sight,
9 And by their verdict is determined
9 As the perfumed tincture of the Roses,
4 They live unwooed, and unrespected fade,
4 When that shall vade, by verse distills your truth.
5 With my love's picture then my eye doth feast,
5 Thy self away, are present still with me,
3 Or if they sleep, thy picture in my sight
1 Awakes my heart, to heart's and eye's delight.
8 That due to thee which thou deserv'st alone:
5 And that thou teach'st how to make one twain,
9 When thou thy self dost give invention light?
9 But now my gracious numbers are decayed,
4 Yet what of thee thy Poet doth invent,
4 And found it in thy cheek: he can afford
5 Some in their wealth, some in their bodies' force,
5 But these particulars are not my measure,
3 Richer than wealth, prouder than garments' cost,
1 Of more delight than Hawks and Horses be:
8 Our love was new, and then but in the spring,
5 Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,
9 You are my All the world, and I must strive,
9 That all the world besides me thinks y'are dead.
4 And Beauty slandered with a bastard shame,
4 But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace.
5 Yet so they mourn becoming of their woe,
5 Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still:
3 He learned but surety-like to write for me,
1 Under that bond that him as fast doth bind.
8 My tongue-tide patience with too much disdain:
5 As testy sick-men when their deaths be near,
9 Breathed forth the sound that said I hate,
9 Doth follow night who like a fiend
4 Can'st thou,, O cruel, say I love thee not,
4 Who hateth thee that I do call my friend,
5 That is so proud thy service to despise,
5 In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn,
3 In vowing new hate after new love bearing:
1 But why of two oaths' breach do I accuse thee,
8 For I have sworn thee fair: more perjured eye,
5 Came tripping by, but in her maiden hand,
9 Came there for cure and this by that I prove,
9 Against strange maladies a sovereign cure:
4 And thither hied a sad distempered guest.
4 Yet who knows not conscience is born of love,
5 My soul doth tell my body that he may,
5 To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.
3 O Me! what eyes hath love put in my head,
1 Which have no correspondence with true sight,
8 That is so vexed with watching and with tears?^
5 Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
9 Suspect I may, yet not directly tell,
9 Tell me thou love'st else-where; but in my sight,
4 Let me excuse thee, ah my love well knows,
4 Yet do not so, but since I am near slain,
5 But slave to slavery my sweetest friend must be.
5 Prison my heart in thy steel bosom's ward,
3 Thou can'st not then use rigor in my Jail.
1 And yet thou wilt, for I being pent in thee,
8 And I a tyrant have no leisure taken
5 The humble salve, which wounded bosoms fits!
9 To what it works in, like the Dyer's hand,
9 For thy neglect of truth in beauty died?
4 Truth needs no colour with his colour fixed,
4 Excuse not silence so, for it lies in thou,
5 Then hate me when thou wilt, if ever, now,
5 Come in the rearward of a conquered woe,
3 If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
1 When other petty griefs have done their spite,
8 Against thy reasons making no defence.
5 Be absent from thy walks and in my tongue,
9 And prove thee virtuous, though thou art forsworn:
9 Such is my love, to thee I so belong,
4 The Charter of thy worth gives thee releasing:
4 The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting,
5 Comes home again, on better judgement making.
5 That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse,
3 Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead?
1 No, neither he, nor his compeers by night
8 My tongue-tide Muse in manners holds her still,
5 And like unlettered clerk still cry Amen,
9 Who is it that says most, which can say more,
9 Not making worse what nature made so clear,
4 Being fond on praise, which makes your praises worse.
4 The barren tender of a Poet's debt:
5 This silence for my sin you did impute,
5 Than both your Poets can in praise devise.
3 The dedicated words which writers use
1 Of their fair subject, blessing every book.
8 In true plain words, by thy true telling friend.
5 From hence your memory death cannot take,
9 When all the breathers of this world are dead,
9 My saucy bark (^inferior far to his)^
4 Or (being wrecked)^ I am a worthless boat,
4 But do thy worst to steal thy self away,
5 When in the least of them my life hath end,
5 Oh what a happy title do I find,
3 Thou may'st be false, and yet I know it not.
1 Alack what poverty my Muse brings forth,
8 Were it not sinful then striving to mend,
5 Your own glass shows you, when you look in it.
9 For if it see the rudest or gentlest sight,
9 Not by our feeling, but by others' seeing.
4 Which in their wills count bad what I think good?
4 By their rank thoughts, my deeds must not be shown
5 With thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway'st,
5 At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand.
3 O'er whom their fingers walk with gentle gate,
1 Making dead wood more blest than living lips,
8 Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine,
5 So thou being rich in _Will_ add to thy _Will_,
9 Nor tender feeling to base touches prone,
9 Poor soul the center of my sinful earth,
4 Why so large cost having so short a lease,
4 Then soul live thou upon thy servant's loss,
5 And death once dead, there's no more dying then.
5 Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill,
3 That in my mind thy worst all best exceeds?^
1 Who taught thee how to make me love thee more,
8 Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
5 Desire is death, which Physic did except.
9 Sets down her babe and makes all swift dispatch
9 And play the mother's part kiss me, be kind.
4 I do believe her though I know she lies,
4 Although she knows my days are past the best,
5 O,, love's best habit is in seeming trust,
5 Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain,
3 And truly not the morning Sun of Heaven
1 Better becomes the grey cheeks of the East,
8 And all they foul that thy complexion lack.
5 If Nature (sovereign mistress over wrack)
9 Distilled from Limbecks foul as hell within,
9 And ruined love when it is built anew
4 Alas 'tis true, I have gone here and there,
4 Most true it is, that I have looked on truth
5 Mine appetite I never more will grind
5 Where art thou Muse that thou forget so long,
3 Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light.
1 Return forgetful Muse, and straight redeem,
8 Give my love fame faster than time wastes life,
5 Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells?^
9 A vengeful canker eat him up to death.
9 Could make me any summer's story tell:
4 They were but sweet, but figures of delight:
4 How like a Winter hath my absence been
5 The teeming Autumn big with rich increase,
5 For Summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
3 That leaves look pale, dreading the Winter's near.
1 Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness,
8 How many Lambs might the stern Wolf betray,
5 As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.
9 Oh what a mansion have those vices got,
9 Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow:
4 Others, but stewards of their excellence:
4 The basest weed out-braves his dignity:
5 May still seem love to me, though altered new:
5 Is writ in moods and frowns and wrinkles strange.
3 What e'er thy thoughts, or thy heart's workings be,
1 Thy looks should nothing thence, but sweetness tell.
8 In process of the seasons have I seen,
5 So your sweet hew, which me thinks still doth stand
9 Such cherubins as your sweet self resemble,
9 Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain
4 Or at the least, so long as brain and heart
4 That poor retention could not so much hold,
5 Were to import forgetfulness in me.
5 Enjoyed no sooner but despised straight,
3 On purpose laid to make the taker mad.
1 Mad In pursuit and in possession so,
8 And will thy soul knows is admitted there,
5 Among a number one is reckoned none.
9 O,, but with mine, compare thou thine own state,
9 Thy pity may deserve to pitied be.
4 That they behold and see not what they see:
4 Be anchored in the bay where all men ride,
5 Or mine eyes seeing this, say this is not
5 As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel;
3 Yet in good faith some say that thee behold,
1 Thy face hath not the power to make love groan;
8 And thence this slander as I think proceeds.
5 Have I not seen dwellers on form and favor
9 When most impeached, stands least in thy control.
9 Thus policy in love to anticipate
4 But thence I learn and find the lesson true,
4 As easy might I from my self depart,
5 So that my self bring water for my stain,
5 For nothing this wide Universe I call,
3 Which hath not figured to thee my true spirit,
1 What's new to speak, what now to register,
8 Nor gives to necessary wrinkles place,
5 Of the wide world, dreaming on things to come,
9 Since spite of him I'll live in this poor rime,
9 Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
4 Of this our time, all you prefiguring,
4 Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
5 Kind is my love today, tomorrow kind,
5 Fair, kind and true, varying to other words,
3 Fair, kind, and true, have often lived alone.
1 Which three till now, never kept seat in one.
8 Divert strong minds to the course of altering things:
5 Love is a Babe, then might I not say so
9 Than think that we before have heard them told:
9 If snow be white, why,, then her breasts are dun:
4 And in some perfumes is there more delight,
4 I grant I never saw a goddess go,
5 It might for Fortune's bastard be unfathered,
5 Under the blow of thralled discontent,
3 Which works on leases of short numbered hours,
1 But all alone stands hugely politic,
8 That I have frequent been with unknown minds,
5 And on just proof surmise, accumulate,
9 O no, it is an ever fixed mark
9 I never writ, nor no man ever loved.