SOUR

SHAKESPEARES

Like feeble age he reeleth from the day,
The eyes(fore dutious) now conjuged are
From his low tract and looke an other way:
So thou,thy selfe out-going in thy noon:
Vnlok'd on dieft vnleſſe thou get a ſonne.

8

M
Vſick to heare,why hear'ſt thou muſick ſadly,
Sweets with ſweets warre not ,ioy delights in ioy:
Why lou'ſt thou that which thou receaſt not gladly,
Or eſſe reccau'ſt with pleaſure thine annoy ?
If the true concord of well tuned ſounds,
By vnions married do offend thine eare,
They do but ſweetly hide thee, who confounds
In ſinglenſe the parts that thou ſhould'ſt beare:
Marke how one ſtring ſweet husband to an other,
Strikes each in each by mutuall ordering;
Reſembling ſier,and child, and happy mother,
Who all in one, one pleaſing note do ſing:
Whose ſpeechleſſe ſong being many, ſeeming one,
Sings this to thee thou single wilt proue none.

9,

Is it for feare to wet a widdowes eye,
That thou consum'ſt thy ſelfe in ſingle life?
Ah;if thou iffuſeſſe ſhalt hap to die,
The world will waile thee like a makeleſſe wife,
The world wilbe thy widdow and ſtill weepe,
That thou no forme of thee haſt left behind,
When euery priuat widdow well may keepe,
By childrens eyes,her husbands ſhape in minde:
Looke what an vnthrift in the world doth ſpend
Shifts but his place,for ſtill the world inioyes it,
But beauties waſte hath in the world an end,
And kept vnvsde the vſer ſo deſtroyes it:
No loue toward others in that boſome ſits
That on himſelfe ſuch murdrous ſhame commits.

10

SONNETS.

10

F
Or ſhame deny that thou bear'ſt loue to any
Who for thy ſelfe art ſo vnprouident
Graunt if thou wilt,thou art belou'd of many,
But that thou none lou'ſt is moſt euident:
For thou art ſo poſſeſt with murdrous hate,
That gainſt thy ſelfe thou ſtuckſt not to confpire,
Seeking that beautious rooſe to ruinate
Which to repaire ſhould be thy chieſe deſire :
O change thy thought,that I may change my minde,
Shall hate be fairer log'd then gentle loue?
Be as thy preſence is graciouſ and kind,
Or to thy ſelfe at leaſt kind harted prou,
Make thee an other ſelfe for loue of me,
That beauty ſtill may liue in thine or thee.

11

A
S ſaſt as thou ſhalt wane ſo ſaſt thou grow'ſt,
In one of thine,from that which thou departeſt,
And that freſh bloud which yongly thou beſtow'ſt,
Thou maſt call thine,when thou from youth conduerteſt,
Herein liues wifdome,beauty,and increaſe,
Without this ſollie,age,and could decay,
If all were minded ſo,the times ſhould ceaſe,
And three ſcoore yeare would make the world away:
Let thofe whom nature hath not made for ſtore,
Hartſh,featureleſſe,and rude,barrenly perrith,
Looke whom ſhe beſt indow'd,ſhe gaue the more;
Which bountious guift thou ſhouldſt in bounty cherrith,
She caru'd thee for her ſeale,and ment therby,
Thou ſhouldſt print more,not let that coppy die.

12

VV
Hen I doe count the clock that tels the time,
And see the braue day ſunck in hidsious night,
When I behold the violet paſt prime,
And ſable curls or filuer'd ore with white:
When lofty trees I see barren of leaues,
Which erſt from heat did canopie the herd

B3

And

GOUN

SHAKESPEARES

And Sommers greene all girded vp in sheues
Borne on the beare with white and briskly beards
Then of thy beauty do I question make
That thou among the waftes of time muft goe,
Since sweets and beauties do them-selues forfake,
And die as faft as they see others grow,
And nothing gainst Times fieth can make defence
Saue breed to braue him, when he takes thee hence.

13

Q That you were your selfe, but loue you are
No longer yours, then you your selfe here liue,
Against this cumming end you should prepare,
And your sweete fsemblance to some other giue.
So should that beauty which you hold in leafe
Find no determination, then you were
You selfe again after your selfes deceafe,
When your sweete iſtue your sweete forme should beare,
Who lets so faire a houſe fall to decay,
Which husbandry in honour might vphold,
Againſt the ſtormy guſts of winters day
And barren rage of deaths eternall cold?
O none but vnthrifts, deare my loue you know,
You had a Father, let your Son ſay so.

14

N Or from the ſtars do I my iudgement plucke,
And yet me thinkes I haue Altronomy,
But not to tell of good, or euil lucke,
Of plagues, of dearths, or ſeafons quallity,
Nor can I fortune to breeſe mynuits tell;
Pointing to each his thunder, raine and winde,
Or ſay with Princes if it ſhal go well
By oſt predict that I in heauen finde,
But from thine eies my knowledge I deriue,
And conſant ſtars in them I read ſuch art
As truth and beautie ſhal together thriue
If from thy ſelſe, to ſtore thou wouldſt conjug:

O

Or else of thee this I prognosticate,
Thy end is Truthes and Beauties doome and date.

15

W Hen I consider euery thing that growes
Holds in perſection but a little moment.
That this huge ſtage preſenteth nought but ſhowes
Whereon the Stars in ſecreſt influence comment.
When I perſeue that men as plants increafe,
Cheared and checkt euen by the ſelſe-fame skie:
Vaunt in their youthfull ſap, at height decreafe,
And were their braue ſtate out of memory.
Then the conceit of this inconſtant ſtay,
Sets you moſt rich in youth before my fight,
Where waſt full time debateth with decay
To change your day of youth to ſuallied night,
And all in war with Time for loue of you
As he takes from you, I ingraft you new.

16

B Vt wherefore do not you a mightier waie
Make warre vppon this bloudie tirant time?
And forſtifie your ſelſe in your decay
With meanes more bleſſed then my barren rime?
Now ſtand you on the top of happie houres,
And many maiden gardens yet vnſet,
With vertuous wifh would beare your liuing flowers,
Much liker then your painted counterfeit:
So ſhould the lines of life that life repaire
Which this (Times penſel or my pupill pen )
Neither in inward worth nor outward ſaire
Can make you liue your ſelſe in eies of men,
To giue away your ſelſe, keeps your ſelſe ſtil;
And you muſt liue drawne by your owne ſweet skill.

17

VV He will beleeue my verie in time to come
If it were ſild with your moſt high deſerts?

B 4

Though

SOUNI

Though yet heauen knowes it is but as a tombe
Which hides your life, and shewes not halfe your parts:
If I could write the beauty of your eyes,
And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
The age to come would fay this Poet lies,
Such heauenly touches nere toucht earthly faces.
So should my papers (yellowed with their age)
Be scorn'd, like old men of leſſe truth then tongue,
And your true rights be termd a Poets rage,
And ſtretched miter of an Antique ſong.
But were some childe of yours aliue that time,
You should liue twife in it, and in my rime.

18.

SHall I compare thee to a Summers day?
Thou art more louely and more temperate:
Rough windes do shake the darling buds of Maie,
And Sommers leafe hath all too ſhort a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heauen ſhines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd,
And euery faire from faire some-time declines,
By chance, or natures changing course vntrim'd:
But thy eternall Sommer ſhall not fade,
Nor loose poſſeffion of that faire thou ow't,
Nor ſhall death brag thou wand'r't in his ſhade,
When in eternall lines to time thou grow't,
So long as men can breath or eyes can ſee,
So long liues this, and this giues life to thee,

19

DEuouring time blunt thou the Lyons pawes,
And make the earth deuoure her owne sweet brood,
Plucke the keene teeth from the fierce Tygers yawes,
And burne the long liu'd Phænix in her blood,
Make glad and ſorry ſeafons as thou fleet'ſt,
And do what ere thou wilt ſwift-footed time
To the wide world and all her fading sweets;
But I forbid thee one moſt hainous crime,

9

SONNETS.

O carue not with thy howers my loues faire brow,
Nor draw noe lines there with thine antique pen,
Him in thy course vntainted doe allow,
For beauties patterne to succeding men.
Yet doe thy worſt ould Time diſpight thy wrong,
My loue ſhall in my verſe euer liue young.

20

AWomans face with natures owne hand painted,
Hast thou the Maſter Miftris of my paffion,
A womans gentle hart but not acquainted
With shifting change as is false womens ſtashion,
An eye more bright then theirs, leſſe false in rowling:
Gilding the obie& where-vpon it gazeth,
A man in hew all Hews in his controwling,
Which ſteales mens eyes and womens ſoules amaſeth,
And for a woman wert thou firſt created,
Till nature as ſhe wrought thee fell a dotinge,
And by addition me of thee defeated,
By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.
But ſince ſhe prickt thee out for womens pleafure,
Mine bethy loue and thy loues vſe their treaſure.

21

SO is it not with me as with that Mufe,
Stird by a painted beauty to his verſe,
Who heauen it ſelfe for ornament doth vſe,
And euery faire with his faire doth reherſe,
Making a coopelment of proud compare
With Sunne and Moone, with earth and ſeas rich gems:
With Aprills firſt borne flowers and all things rare,
That heauens ayre in this huge rondure hems,
O let me true in loue but truly write,
And then beleeue me, my loue is as faire,
As any mothers childe, though not so bright
As thofe gould candells fixt in heauens ayer:
Let them fay more that like of heare-fay well,
I will not prayſe that purpose not to ſell.

C

22

SHAKE-SPEARES

22

M
Y glaſſe shall not perſwade me I am ould,
So long as youth and thou are of one date,
But when in thee times forrwes I behould,
Then look I death my daies should expiate.
For all that beauty that doth couer thee,
Is but the seemely rayment of my heart,
Which in thy breſt doth liue, as thine in me,
How can I then be elder then thou art?
O therefore loue be of thy ſelfe so wary,
As I not for my ſelfe, but for thee will,
Bearing thy heart which I will keepe so chary
As tender nurse her babe from faring ill,
Prefume not on thy heart when mine is ſlaíne,
Thou gauſt me thine not to giue backe againe.

23

A
S an vnperfect actor on the ſtage,
Who with his ſeare is put befides his part,
Or ſome ſtereſhing repleat with too much rage,
Whose ſtrengths abondance weakens his owne heart,
So I for ſeare of truſt, ſorget to ſay,
The perſect ceremony of loues right,
And in mine owne loues ſtrength ſeeme to decay,
Ore-charg'd with burthen of mine owne loues might:
O let my books be then the eloquence,
And domb prefagers of my ſpeaking breſt,
Who pleade for loue, and look for recompence,
More then that tonge that more hath more expreſt.
O learne to read what ſilent loue hath writ,
To heare wit eies belongs to loues fine wiht.

24

M
I ne eye hath play'd the painter and hath ſteeld,
I hy beauties forme in table of my heart,
My body is the ſiame wherein ti's held,
And perſpectiue it is belt Painters art.
For through the Painter muſt you ſee his skill.

To

SONNETS.

To finde where your true Image pietur'd lies,
Which in my bosomes ſhop is hanging ſtil,
That hath his windowes glazed with thine eyes:
Now ſee what good-turnes eyes for eies haue done,
Mine eyes haue drawne thy ſhape, and thine for me
Are windowes to my breſt, where-through the Sun
Delights to peepe, to gaze therein on thee
Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art.
They draw but what they ſee, know not the harte.

25

I
Et those who are in fauor with their ſtars,
Of publike honour and proud titles boſt,
Whilſt I whome fortune of ſuch tryumph bars
Vnlookt for ioy in that I honour moſt;
Great Princes fauorites their faire leaues ſpread,
But as the Marygold at the ſuns eye,
And in them ſelues their pride lies buried,
For at a ſrowne they in their glory die.
The painefull warrier famoſed for worth,
After a thousand victories once ſoild,
Is from the booke of honour rafed quite,
And all the reſt ſorgot for which he toilds:
Then happy I that loue and am beloved
Where I may not remoue, nor be remoued.

26

L
Ord of my loue, to whome in vassalage
Thy merrit hath my dutie strongly knitt;
To thee I ſend this written ambaſſage
To witneſſe duty, not to ſhew my witt.
Duty ſo great, which wit ſo poore as mine
May make ſeeme bare, in wanting words to ſhew it;
But that I hope ſome good conceipt of thine
In thy ſoules thought (all naked) will beſtow it:
Til whatſoever ſtar that guides my mouing,
Points on me gratiouſly with faire aspect,
And puts apparrell on my tottered louing,

C 2

To

SHAKE-SPEARES,

To show me worthy of their sweet respect,
Then may I dare to boast how I doe loue thee,
Til then, not show my head where thou maist proueme

27
W Eary with toyle, I haft me to my bed,
The deare repofe for lims with trauaill tired,
But then begins a journey in my head
To worke my mind, when boddies work's expired.
For then my thoughts (from far where I abide)
Intend a zelous pilgrimage to thee,
And keepe my drooping eye-lids open wide,
Looking on darknes which the blind doe see.
Saue that my foules imaginary fight
Prefents their shaddoe to my fightles view,
Which like a iewell (hunge in gaffly night)
Makes blacke night beautious, and her old face new.
Loe thus by day my lims, by night my mind,
For thee, and for my selfe, noe quiet finde.

28
H ow can I then returne in happy plight
That am debard the benifit of rell?
When daies oppreffion is not eazd by night,
But day by night and night by day opreft.
And each (though enimes to ethers raigne)
Doe in conſent ſhake hands to torture me,
The one by toyle, the other to complaine
How far I toyle, ſtill farther off from thee.
I tell the Day to pleafe him thou art bright,
And doſt him grace when clouds doe blot the heauen:
So flatter I the ſwart complexiond night,
When ſparkling ſtars twire not thou guil't ſt eauen.
But day doth daily draw my ſorrowes longer, (stronger
And night doth nightly make greeſes length ſee me

29
WV Hen in diſgrace with Fortune and mens eyes,
I all alone beweep my out-cast state,

And

SONNETS.

And trouble deafe heauen with my bootleſſe cries,
And looke vpon my ſelfe and curſe my fate,
Wifhing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featur'd like him, like him with friends poſſeft,
Deſtring this mans art, and that mans skope,
With what I moſt inioy contented leaſt,
Yet in theſe thoughts my ſelfe almoſt deſpising,
Haply I thinke on thee, and then my ſtate,
(Like to the Larke at breake of daye arſing.)
From ſullen earth ſings himns at Heauens gate,
For thy sweet loue remembred ſuch welth brings,
That then I skorne to change my ſtate with Kings.

30
WV Hen to the Seffions of sweet ſilent thought,
I ſommon vp remembrance of things paſt,
I ſigh the lacke of many a thing I ſought,
And with old woes new waile my deare times waſt:
Then can I drowne an eye(vn-vſd to flow)
For precious friends hid in deaths dateles night,
And weepe a fresh loues long ſince canceld woe,
And mone th'expence of many a vannifht fight.
Then can I greeue at greeuances ſore-gon,
And heauily from woe to woe tell ore
The ſad account of ſore-bemoned mone,
Which I new pay as if not payd before:
But if the while I thinke on thee (deare friend)
All loſſes are reſtore, and ſorrowes end.

31
T hy boſome is indeared with all hearts,
Which I by lacking haue ſuppoſed dead,
And there raignes Loue and all Loues louing parts,
And all thofe friends which I thought buried.
How many a holy and obſequious teare
Hath deare religious loue ſtolne from mine eye;
As intereſt of the dead, which now appeare,
But things remou'd that hidden in there lie,

C 3

To