Internet Shakespeare Editions

About this text

  • 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)

    SONNETS.

    Doe I not thinke on thee when I forgot
    2225Am of my selfe, all tirant for thy sake?
    Who hateth thee that I doe call my friend,
    On whom froun'st thou that I doe faune vpon,
    Nay if thou lowrst on me doe I not spend
    Reuenge vpon my selfe with present mone?
    2230What merrit do I in my selfe respect,
    That is so proude thy seruice to dispise,
    When all my best doth worship thy defect,
    Commanded by the motion of thine eyes.
    But loue hate on for now I know thy minde,
    2235Those that can see thou lou'st, and I am blind.

    I50

    OH from what powre hast thou this powrefull might,
    With insufficiency my heart to sway,
    To make me giue the lie to my true sight,
    2240And swere that brightnesse doth not grace the day?
    Whence hast thou this becomming of things il,
    That in the very refuse of thy deeds;

    There is such strength and warrantise of skill,
    That in my minde thy worst all best exceeds?

    2245Who taught thee how to make me loue thee more,
    The more I heare and see iust cause of hate,
    Oh though I loue what others doe abhor,
    With others thou shouldst not abhor my state.
    If thy vnworthinesse raisd loue in me,
    2250More worthy I to be belou'd of thee.

    I5I

    LOue is too young to know what conscience is,
    Yet who knowes not conscience is borne of loue,
    Then gentle cheater vrge not my amisse,
    2255Least guilty of my faults thy sweet selfe proue.
    For thou betraying me, I doe betray
    My nobler part to my grose bodies treason,
    My soule doth tell my body that he may,
    Triumph in loue, flesh staies no farther reason.
    But