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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)

    TAke all my loues, my loue, yea take them all,
    What hast thou then more then thou hadst before?
    No loue, my loue, that thou maist true loue call,
    All mine was thine, before thou hadst this more:
    590Then if for my loue, thou my loue receiuest,
    I cannot blame thee, for my loue thou vsest,
    But yet be blam'd, if thou this selfe deceauest
    B y wilfull taste of what thy selfe refusest.
    I doe forgiue thy robb'rie gentle theefe
    595Although thou steale thee all my pouerty:
    And yet loue knowes it is a greater griefe
    To beare loues wrong, then hates knowne iniury.
    Lasciuious grace, in whom all il wel showes,
    Kill me with spights yet we must not be foes.
    THose pretty wrongs that liberty commits,
    When I am some-time absent from thy heart,
    Thy beautie, and thy yeares full well befits,
    For still temptation followes where thou art.
    605Gentle thou art, and therefore to be wonne,
    Beautious thou art, therefore to be assailed.
    And when a woman woes, what womans sonne,
    Will sourely leaue her till he haue preuailed.
    Aye me, but yet thou mighst my seate forbeare,
    610And chide thy beauty, and thy straying youth,
    Who lead thee in their ryot euen there
    Where thou art forst to breake a two-fold truth:
    Hers by thy beauty tempting her to thee,
    Thine by thy beautie beeing false to me.
    THat thou hast her it is not all my griefe,
    And yet it may be said I lou'd her deerely,
    That she hath thee is of my wayling cheefe,
    A losse in loue that touches me more neerely.
    620Louing offendors thus I will excuse yee,
    Thou doost loue her, because thou knowst I loue her,
    And for my sake euen so doth she abuse me,
    Suffring my friend for my sake to approoue her,
    If I loose thee, my losse is my loues gaine,
    625And loosing her, my friend hath found that losse,
    Both finde each other, and I loose both twaine,
    And both for my sake lay on me this crosse,
    But here's the ioy, my friend and I are one,
    Sweete flattery, then she loues but me alone.