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  • Title: Shake-speares Sonnets (Quarto 1, 1609)
  • Editors: Hardy M. Cook, Ian Lancashire

  • Copyright Hardy M. Cook and Ian Lancashire. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editors: Hardy M. Cook, Ian Lancashire
    Peer Reviewed

    Shake-speares Sonnets (Quarto 1, 1609)

    36025
    LEt those who are in fauor with their stars,
    Of publike honour and proud titles bost,
    Whilst I whome fortune of such tryumph bars
    Vnlookt for ioy in that I honour most;
    365Great Princes fauorites their faire leaues spread,
    But as the Marygold at the suns eye,
    And in them-selues their pride lies buried,
    For at a frowne they in their glory die.
    The painefull warrier famosed for worth,
    370After a thousand victories once foild,
    Is from the booke of honour rased quite,
    And all the rest forgot for which he toild:
    Then happy I that loue and am beloued
    Where I may not remoue, nor be remoued.
    37526
    LOrd of my loue, to whome in vassalage
    Thy merrit hath my dutie strongly knit;
    To thee I send this written ambassage
    To witnesse duty, not to shew my wit.
    380Duty so great, which wit so poore as mine
    May make seeme bare, in wanting words to shew it;
    But that I hope some good conceipt of thine
    In thy soules thought(all naked) will bestow it:
    Til whatsoeuer star that guides my mouing,
    385Points on me gratiously with faire aspect,
    And puts apparrell on my tottered louing,
    To show me worthy of their sweet respect,
    Then may I dare to boast how I doe loue thee,
    Til then, not show my head where thou maist proue me
    39027
    WEary with toyle, I hast me to my bed ,
    The deare repose for lims with trauaill tired,
    But then begins a iourny in my head
    To worke my mind, when boddies work's expired.
    395For then my thoughts(from far where I abide)
    Intend a zelous pilgrimage to thee;
    And keepe my drooping eye-lids open wide,
    Looking on darknes which the blind doe see.
    Saue that my soules imaginary sight
    400Presents their shaddoe to my sightles view,
    Which like a iewell(hunge in gastly night)
    Makes blacke night beautious, and her old face new.
    Loe thus by day my lims, by night my mind,
    For thee, and for my selfe, noe quiet finde.