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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)

    I09
    O Neuer say that I was false of heart,
    Though absence seem'd my flame to quallifie,
    As easie might I from my selfe depart,
    1625As from my soule which in thy brest doth lye :
    That is my home of loue, if I haue rang'd,
    Like him that trauels I returne againe,
    Iust to the time, not with the time exchang'd,
    So that my selfe bring water for my staine,
    1630Neuer beleeue though in my nature raign'd,
    All frailties that besiege all kindes of blood,
    That it could so preposterouslie be stain'd,
    To leaue for nothing all thy summe of good :
    For nothing this wide Vniuerse I call,
    1635Saue thou my Rose, in it thou art my all.
    II0
    ALas 'tis true, I haue gone here and there,
    And made my selfe a motley to the view,
    Gor'd mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most deare,
    1640Made old offences of affections new.
    Most true it is, that I haue lookt on truth
    Asconce and strangely: But by all aboue,
    These blenches gaue my heart an other youth,
    And worse essaies prou'd thee my best of loue,
    1645Now all is done, haue what shall haue no end,
    Mine appetite I neuer more will grin'de
    On newer proofe, to trie an older friend,
    A God in loue, to whom I am confin'd.
    Then giue me welcome, next my heauen the best,
    1650Euen to thy pure and most most louing brest.
    III
    O For my sake doe you wish fortune chide,
    The guiltie goddesse of my harmfull deeds,
    That did not better for my life prouide,
    1655Then publick meanes which publick manners breeds.
    Thence comes it that my name receiues a brand,
    And almost thence my nature is subdu'd
    To what it workes in, like the Dyers hand,
    Pitty me then, and wish I were renu'de,
    1660Whilst like a willing pacient I will drinke,
    Potions of Eysell gainst my strong infection,
    No bitternesse that I will bitter thinke,
    Nor double pennance to correct correction.
    Pittie me then deare friend, and I assure yee,
    1665 Euen that your pittie is enough to cure mee.