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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)

    13509I
    SOme glory in their birth, some in their skill,
    Some in their wealth, some in their bodies force,
    Some in their garments though new-fangled ill:
    Some in their Hawkes and Hounds, some in their Horse.
    1355And euery humor hath his adiunct pleasure,
    Wherein it findes a ioy aboue the rest,
    But these perticulers are not my measure,
    All these I better in one generall best.
    Thy loue is bitter then high birth to me,
    1360Richer then wealth, prouder then garments cost,
    Of more delight then Hawkes or Horses bee:
    And hauing thee, of all mens pride I boast.
    Wretched in this alone, that thou maist take,
    All this away, and me most wretched make.
    136592
    BVt doe thy worst to steale thy selfe away,
    For tearme of life thou art assured mine,
    And life no longer then thy loue will stay,
    For it depends vpon that loue of thine.
    1370Then need I not to feare the worst of wrongs,
    When in the least of them my life hath end,
    I see, a better state to me belongs
    Then that, which on thy humor doth depend.
    Thou canst not vex me with inconstant minde,
    1375Since that my life on thy reuolt doth lie,
    Oh what a happy title do I finde ,
    Happy to haue thy loue, happy to die!
    But whats so blessed faire that feares no blot,
    Thou maist be falce, and yet I know it not.
    138093
    SO shall I liue, supposing thou art true,
    Like a deceiued husband, so loues face,
    May still seeme loue to me, though alter'd new:
    Thy lookes with me, thy heart in other place.
    1385For their can liue no hatred in thine eye,
    Therefore in that I cannot know thy change,
    In manies lookes, the falce hearts history
    Is writ in moods and frounes and wrinckles strange.
    But heauen in thy creation did decree,
    1390That in thy face sweet loue should euer dwell,
    What ere thy thoughts, or thy hearts workings be,
    Thy lookes should nothing thence, but sweetnesse tell.
    How like Eaues apple doth thy beauty grow,
    If thy sweet vertue answere not thy show.
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