Reading Help THE SONNETS
To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell. `
` `
` CXXX `
` `
` My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; `
` Coral is far more red, than her lips red: `
` If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; `
` If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. `
` I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, `
` But no such roses see I in her cheeks; `
` And in some perfumes is there more delight `
` Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. `
` I love to hear her speak, yet well I know `
` That music hath a far more pleasing sound: `
` I grant I never saw a goddess go,-- `
` My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground: `
` And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare, `
` As any she belied with false compare. `
` `
` CXXXI `
` `
` Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art, `
` As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel; `
` For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart `
` Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel. `
` Yet, in good faith, some say that thee behold, `
` Thy face hath not the power to make love groan; `
` To say they err I dare not be so bold, `
` Although I swear it to myself alone. `
` And to be sure that is not false I swear, `
` A thousand groans, but thinking on thy face, `
` One on another's neck, do witness bear `
` Thy black is fairest in my judgment's place. `
` In nothing art thou black save in thy deeds, `
` And thence this slander, as I think, proceeds. `
` `
` CXXXII `
` `
` Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me, `
` Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain, `
` Have put on black and loving mourners be, `
` Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain. `
` And truly not the morning sun of heaven `
` Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east, `
` Nor that full star that ushers in the even, `
` Doth half that glory to the sober west, `
` As those two mourning eyes become thy face: `
` O! let it then as well beseem thy heart `
` To mourn for me since mourning doth thee grace, `
` And suit thy pity like in every part. `
` Then will I swear beauty herself is black, `
` And all they foul that thy complexion lack. `
` `
` CXXXIII `
` `
` Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan `
` For that deep wound it gives my friend and me! `
` Is't not enough to torture me alone, `
` But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be? `
` Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken, `
` And my next self thou harder hast engross'd: `
` Of him, myself, and thee I am forsaken; `
` A torment thrice three-fold thus to be cross'd: `
` Prison my heart in thy steel bosom's ward, `
` But then my friend's heart let my poor heart bail; `
` Whoe'er keeps me, let my heart be his guard; `
` Thou canst not then use rigour in my jail: `
` And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee, `
` Perforce am thine, and all that is in me. `
` `
` CXXXIV `
` `
` So, now I have confess'd that he is thine, `
` And I my self am mortgag'd to thy will, `
` Myself I'll forfeit, so that other mine `
` Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still: `
` But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free, `
` For thou art covetous, and he is kind; `
` He learn'd but surety-like to write for me, `
` Under that bond that him as fast doth bind. `
` The statute of thy beauty thou wilt take, `
` Thou usurer, that putt'st forth all to use, `
` And sue a friend came debtor for my sake; `
` So him I lose through my unkind abuse. `
` Him have I lost; thou hast both him and me: `
` He pays the whole, and yet am I not free. `
` `
` CXXXV `
` `
` Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy 'Will,' `
` And 'Will' to boot, and 'Will' in over-plus; `
` More than enough am I that vex'd thee still, `
` To thy sweet will making addition thus. `
` Wilt thou, whose will is large and spacious, `
` Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine? `
` Shall will in others seem right gracious, `
` And in my will no fair acceptance shine? `
` The sea, all water, yet receives rain still, `
` And in abundance addeth to his store; `
` So thou, being rich in 'Will,' add to thy 'Will' `
` One will of mine, to make thy large will more. `
` Let no unkind 'No' fair beseechers kill; `
` Think all but one, and me in that one 'Will.' `
` `
` CXXXVI `
` `
` If thy soul check thee that I come so near, `
` Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy 'Will', `
` And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there; `
` Thus far for love, my love-suit, sweet, fulfil. `
` 'Will', will fulfil the treasure of thy love, `
` Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one. `
` In things of great receipt with ease we prove `
` Among a number one is reckon'd none: `
` Then in the number let me pass untold, `
` Though in thy store's account I one must be; `
` For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold `
` That nothing me, a something sweet to thee: `
` Make but my name thy love, and love that still, `
` And then thou lov'st me for my name is 'Will.' `
` `
` CXXXVII `
` `
` Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes, `
` That they behold, and see not what they see? `
` They know what beauty is, see where it lies, `
` Yet what the best is take the worst to be. `
` If eyes, corrupt by over-partial looks, `
` Be anchor'd in the bay where all men ride, `
` Why of eyes' falsehood hast thou forged hooks, `
` Whereto the judgment of my heart is tied? `
` Why should my heart think that a several plot, `
` Which my heart knows the wide world's common place? `
` Or mine eyes, seeing this, say this is not, `
` To put fair truth upon so foul a face? `
` In things right true my heart and eyes have err'd, `
` And to this false plague are they now transferr'd. `
` `
` CXXXVIII `
` `
` When my love swears that she is made of truth, `
` I do believe her though I know she lies, `
` That she might think me some untutor'd youth, `
` Unlearned in the world's false subtleties. `
` Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young, `
` Although she knows my days are past the best, `
` Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue: `
` On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed: `
` But wherefore says she not she is unjust? `
` And wherefore say not I that I am old? `
` O! love's best habit is in seeming trust, `
` And age in love, loves not to have years told: `
` Therefore I lie with her, and she with me, `
` And in our faults by lies we flatter'd be. `
` `
` CXXXIX `
` `
` O! call not me to justify the wrong `
` That thy unkindness lays upon my heart; `
` Wound me not with thine eye, but with thy tongue: `
` Use power with power, and slay me not by art, `
` Tell me thou lov'st elsewhere; but in my sight, `
` Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside: `
` What need'st thou wound with cunning, when thy might `
` Is more than my o'erpress'd defence can bide? `
` Let me excuse thee: ah! my love well knows `
` Her pretty looks have been mine enemies; `
` And therefore from my face she turns my foes, `
` That they elsewhere might dart their injuries: `
` Yet do not so; but since I am near slain, `
` Kill me outright with looks, and rid my pain. `
` `
` `
` CXL `
` `
` Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press `
` My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain; `
` Lest sorrow lend me words, and words express `
` The manner of my pity-wanting pain. `
` If I might teach thee wit, better it were, `
` Though not to love, yet, love to tell me so;-- `
` As testy sick men, when their deaths be near, `
` No news but health from their physicians know;-- `
` For, if I should despair, I should grow mad, `
` And in my madness might speak ill of thee; `
` Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad, `
` Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be. `
` That I may not be so, nor thou belied, `
` Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide. `
` `
` CXLI `
` `
` In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes, `
` For they in thee a thousand errors note; `
` But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise, `
` Who, in despite of view, is pleased to dote. `
` Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune delighted; `
` Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone, `
` Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited `
` To any sensual feast with thee alone: `
` But my five wits nor my five senses can `
`
` `
` CXXX `
` `
` My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; `
` Coral is far more red, than her lips red: `
` If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; `
` If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. `
` I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, `
` But no such roses see I in her cheeks; `
` And in some perfumes is there more delight `
` Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. `
` I love to hear her speak, yet well I know `
` That music hath a far more pleasing sound: `
` I grant I never saw a goddess go,-- `
` My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground: `
` And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare, `
` As any she belied with false compare. `
` `
` CXXXI `
` `
` Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art, `
` As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel; `
` For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart `
` Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel. `
` Yet, in good faith, some say that thee behold, `
` Thy face hath not the power to make love groan; `
` To say they err I dare not be so bold, `
` Although I swear it to myself alone. `
` And to be sure that is not false I swear, `
` A thousand groans, but thinking on thy face, `
` One on another's neck, do witness bear `
` Thy black is fairest in my judgment's place. `
` In nothing art thou black save in thy deeds, `
` And thence this slander, as I think, proceeds. `
` `
` CXXXII `
` `
` Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me, `
` Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain, `
` Have put on black and loving mourners be, `
` Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain. `
` And truly not the morning sun of heaven `
` Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east, `
` Nor that full star that ushers in the even, `
` Doth half that glory to the sober west, `
` As those two mourning eyes become thy face: `
` O! let it then as well beseem thy heart `
` To mourn for me since mourning doth thee grace, `
` And suit thy pity like in every part. `
` Then will I swear beauty herself is black, `
` And all they foul that thy complexion lack. `
` `
` CXXXIII `
` `
` Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan `
` For that deep wound it gives my friend and me! `
` Is't not enough to torture me alone, `
` But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be? `
` Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken, `
` And my next self thou harder hast engross'd: `
` Of him, myself, and thee I am forsaken; `
` A torment thrice three-fold thus to be cross'd: `
` Prison my heart in thy steel bosom's ward, `
` But then my friend's heart let my poor heart bail; `
` Whoe'er keeps me, let my heart be his guard; `
` Thou canst not then use rigour in my jail: `
` And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee, `
` Perforce am thine, and all that is in me. `
` `
` CXXXIV `
` `
` So, now I have confess'd that he is thine, `
` And I my self am mortgag'd to thy will, `
` Myself I'll forfeit, so that other mine `
` Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still: `
` But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free, `
` For thou art covetous, and he is kind; `
` He learn'd but surety-like to write for me, `
` Under that bond that him as fast doth bind. `
` The statute of thy beauty thou wilt take, `
` Thou usurer, that putt'st forth all to use, `
` And sue a friend came debtor for my sake; `
` So him I lose through my unkind abuse. `
` Him have I lost; thou hast both him and me: `
` He pays the whole, and yet am I not free. `
` `
` CXXXV `
` `
` Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy 'Will,' `
` And 'Will' to boot, and 'Will' in over-plus; `
` More than enough am I that vex'd thee still, `
` To thy sweet will making addition thus. `
` Wilt thou, whose will is large and spacious, `
` Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine? `
` Shall will in others seem right gracious, `
` And in my will no fair acceptance shine? `
` The sea, all water, yet receives rain still, `
` And in abundance addeth to his store; `
` So thou, being rich in 'Will,' add to thy 'Will' `
` One will of mine, to make thy large will more. `
` Let no unkind 'No' fair beseechers kill; `
` Think all but one, and me in that one 'Will.' `
` `
` CXXXVI `
` `
` If thy soul check thee that I come so near, `
` Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy 'Will', `
` And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there; `
` Thus far for love, my love-suit, sweet, fulfil. `
` 'Will', will fulfil the treasure of thy love, `
` Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one. `
` In things of great receipt with ease we prove `
` Among a number one is reckon'd none: `
` Then in the number let me pass untold, `
` Though in thy store's account I one must be; `
` For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold `
` That nothing me, a something sweet to thee: `
` Make but my name thy love, and love that still, `
` And then thou lov'st me for my name is 'Will.' `
` `
` CXXXVII `
` `
` Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes, `
` That they behold, and see not what they see? `
` They know what beauty is, see where it lies, `
` Yet what the best is take the worst to be. `
` If eyes, corrupt by over-partial looks, `
` Be anchor'd in the bay where all men ride, `
` Why of eyes' falsehood hast thou forged hooks, `
` Whereto the judgment of my heart is tied? `
` Why should my heart think that a several plot, `
` Which my heart knows the wide world's common place? `
` Or mine eyes, seeing this, say this is not, `
` To put fair truth upon so foul a face? `
` In things right true my heart and eyes have err'd, `
` And to this false plague are they now transferr'd. `
` `
` CXXXVIII `
` `
` When my love swears that she is made of truth, `
` I do believe her though I know she lies, `
` That she might think me some untutor'd youth, `
` Unlearned in the world's false subtleties. `
` Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young, `
` Although she knows my days are past the best, `
` Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue: `
` On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed: `
` But wherefore says she not she is unjust? `
` And wherefore say not I that I am old? `
` O! love's best habit is in seeming trust, `
` And age in love, loves not to have years told: `
` Therefore I lie with her, and she with me, `
` And in our faults by lies we flatter'd be. `
` `
` CXXXIX `
` `
` O! call not me to justify the wrong `
` That thy unkindness lays upon my heart; `
` Wound me not with thine eye, but with thy tongue: `
` Use power with power, and slay me not by art, `
` Tell me thou lov'st elsewhere; but in my sight, `
` Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside: `
` What need'st thou wound with cunning, when thy might `
` Is more than my o'erpress'd defence can bide? `
` Let me excuse thee: ah! my love well knows `
` Her pretty looks have been mine enemies; `
` And therefore from my face she turns my foes, `
` That they elsewhere might dart their injuries: `
` Yet do not so; but since I am near slain, `
` Kill me outright with looks, and rid my pain. `
` `
` `
` CXL `
` `
` Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press `
` My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain; `
` Lest sorrow lend me words, and words express `
` The manner of my pity-wanting pain. `
` If I might teach thee wit, better it were, `
` Though not to love, yet, love to tell me so;-- `
` As testy sick men, when their deaths be near, `
` No news but health from their physicians know;-- `
` For, if I should despair, I should grow mad, `
` And in my madness might speak ill of thee; `
` Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad, `
` Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be. `
` That I may not be so, nor thou belied, `
` Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide. `
` `
` CXLI `
` `
` In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes, `
` For they in thee a thousand errors note; `
` But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise, `
` Who, in despite of view, is pleased to dote. `
` Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune delighted; `
` Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone, `
` Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited `
` To any sensual feast with thee alone: `
` But my five wits nor my five senses can `
`