Рефераты. Сонеты Шекспира

|It fears not policy, that heretic, |

|Which works on leases of short-number'd hours, |

|But all alone stands hugely politic, |

|That it nor grows with heat nor drowns with |

|showers. |

| To this I witness call the fools of time, |

| Which die for goodness, who have lived for |

|crime. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 125

|CXXV. |

|Were 't aught to me I bore the canopy, |

|With my extern the outward honouring, |

|Or laid great bases for eternity, |

|Which prove more short than waste or ruining? |

|Have I not seen dwellers on form and favour |

|Lose all, and more, by paying too much rent, |

|For compound sweet forgoing simple savour, |

|Pitiful thrivers, in their gazing spent? |

|No, let me be obsequious in thy heart, |

|And take thou my oblation, poor but free, |

|Which is not mix'd with seconds, knows no art, |

|But mutual render, only me for thee. |

| Hence, thou suborn'd informer! a true soul |

| When most impeach'd stands least in thy |

|control. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 126


|O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power |

|Dost hold Time's fickle glass, his sickle, hour; |

|Who hast by waning grown, and therein show'st |

|Thy lovers withering as thy sweet self grow'st; |

|If Nature, sovereign mistress over wrack, |

|As thou goest onwards, still will pluck thee |

|back, |

|She keeps thee to this purpose, that her skill |

|May time disgrace and wretched minutes kill. |

|Yet fear her, O thou minion of her pleasure! |

|She may detain, but not still keep, her treasure:|

| |

| Her audit, though delay'd, answer'd must be, |

| And her quietus is to render thee. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 127


|In the old age black was not counted fair, |

|Or if it were, it bore not beauty's name; |

|But now is black beauty's successive heir, |

|And beauty slander'd with a bastard shame: |

|For since each hand hath put on nature's power, |

|Fairing the foul with art's false borrow'd face, |

|Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower, |

|But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace. |

|Therefore my mistress' brows are raven black, |

|Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem |

|At such who, not born fair, no beauty lack, |

|Slandering creation with a false esteem: |

| Yet so they mourn, becoming of their woe, |

| That every tongue says beauty should look so. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 128


|How oft, when thou, my music, music play'st, |

|Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds |

|With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway'st |

|The wiry concord that mine ear confounds, |

|Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap |

|To kiss the tender inward of thy hand, |

|Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest |

|reap, |

|At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand! |

|To be so tickled, they would change their state |

|And situation with those dancing chips, |

|O'er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait, |

|Making dead wood more blest than living lips. |

| Since saucy jacks so happy are in this, |

| Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 129


|The expense of spirit in a waste of shame |

|Is lust in action; and till action, lust |

|Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame, |

|Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust, |

|Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight, |

|Past reason hunted, and no sooner had |

|Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bait |

|On purpose laid to make the taker mad; |

|Mad in pursuit and in possession so; |

|Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme; |

|A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe; |

|Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream. |

| All this the world well knows; yet none knows |

|well |

| To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.|

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 130

|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. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 131


|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. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 132


|Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me, |

|Knowing thy heart torments 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. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 133


|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 threefold 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 rigor in my gaol: |

| And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee, |

| Perforce am thine, and all that is in me. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 134


|So, now I have confess'd that he is thine, |

|And I myself am mortgaged 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 put'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. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 135


|Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy 'Will,' |

|And 'Will' to boot, and 'Will' in overplus; |

|More than enough am I that vex 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.' |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 136


|If thy soul cheque 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 stores' 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 lovest me, for my name is 'Will.'|

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 137


|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 |

|erred, |

| And to this false plague are they now |

|transferr'd. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 138


|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 suppress'd. |

|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. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 139


|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 lovest 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'er-press'd defense 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. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 140

|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. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 141

|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 |

|Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee, |

|Who leaves unsway'd the likeness of a man, |

|Thy proud hearts slave and vassal wretch to be: |

| Only my plague thus far I count my gain, |

| That she that makes me sin awards me pain. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 142


|Love is my sin and thy dear virtue hate, |

|Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving: |

|O, but with mine compare thou thine own state, |

|And thou shalt find it merits not reproving; |

|Or, if it do, not from those lips of thine, |

|That have profaned their scarlet ornaments |

|And seal'd false bonds of love as oft as mine, |

|Robb'd others' beds' revenues of their rents. |

|Be it lawful I love thee, as thou lovest those |

|Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee: |

|Root pity in thy heart, that when it grows |

|Thy pity may deserve to pitied be. |

| If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide, |

| By self-example mayst thou be denied! |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 143


|Lo! as a careful housewife runs to catch |

|One of her feather'd creatures broke away, |

|Sets down her babe and makes an swift dispatch |

|In pursuit of the thing she would have stay, |

|Whilst her neglected child holds her in chase, |

|Cries to catch her whose busy care is bent |

|To follow that which flies before her face, |

|Not prizing her poor infant's discontent; |

|So runn'st thou after that which flies from thee,|

| |

|Whilst I thy babe chase thee afar behind; |

|But if thou catch thy hope, turn back to me, |

|And play the mother's part, kiss me, be kind: |

| So will I pray that thou mayst have thy 'Will,'|

| |

| If thou turn back, and my loud crying still. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 144


|Two loves I have of comfort and despair, |

|Which like two spirits do suggest me still: |

|The better angel is a man right fair, |

|The worser spirit a woman colour'd ill. |

|To win me soon to hell, my female evil |

|Tempteth my better angel from my side, |

|And would corrupt my saint to be a devil, |

|Wooing his purity with her foul pride. |

|And whether that my angel be turn'd fiend |

|Suspect I may, but not directly tell; |

|But being both from me, both to each friend, |

|I guess one angel in another's hell: |

| Yet this shall I ne'er know, but live in doubt,|

| |

| Till my bad angel fire my good one out. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 145

|CXLV. |

|Those lips that Love's own hand did make |

|Breathed forth the sound that said 'I hate' |

|To me that languish'd for her sake; |

|But when she saw my woeful state, |

|Straight in her heart did mercy come, |

|Chiding that tongue that ever sweet |

|Was used in giving gentle doom, |

|And taught it thus anew to greet: |

|'I hate' she alter'd with an end, |

|That follow'd it as gentle day |

|Doth follow night, who like a fiend |

|From heaven to hell is flown away; |

| 'I hate' from hate away she threw, |

| And saved my life, saying 'not you.' |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 146


|Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth, |

|[ ] these rebel powers that thee array; |

|Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth, |

|Painting thy outward walls so costly gay? |

|Why so large cost, having so short a lease, |

|Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend? |

|Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, |

|Eat up thy charge? is this thy body's end? |

|Then soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss, |

|And let that pine to aggravate thy store; |

|Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross; |

|Within be fed, without be rich no more: |

| So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men,|

| |

| And Death once dead, there's no more dying |

|then. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 147


|My love is as a fever, longing still |

|For that which longer nurseth the disease, |

|Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, |

|The uncertain sickly appetite to please. |

|My reason, the physician to my love, |

|Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, |

|Hath left me, and I desperate now approve |

|Desire is death, which physic did except. |

|Past cure I am, now reason is past care, |

|And frantic-mad with evermore unrest; |

|My thoughts and my discourse as madmen's are, |

|At random from the truth vainly express'd; |

| For I have sworn thee fair and thought thee |

|bright, |

| Who art as black as hell, as dark as night. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 148


|O me, what eyes hath Love put in my head, |

|Which have no correspondence with true sight! |

|Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled, |

|That censures falsely what they see aright? |

|If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote, |

|What means the world to say it is not so? |

|If it be not, then love doth well denote |

|Love's eye is not so true as all men's 'No.' |

|How can it? O, how can Love's eye be true, |

|That is so vex'd with watching and with tears? |

|No marvel then, though I mistake my view; |

|The sun itself sees not till heaven clears. |

| O cunning Love! with tears thou keep'st me |

|blind, |

| Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should |

|find. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 149


|Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not, |

|When I against myself with thee partake? |

|Do I not think on thee, when I forgot |

|Am of myself, all tyrant, for thy sake? |

|Who hateth thee that I do call my friend? |

|On whom frown'st thou that I do fawn upon? |

|Nay, if thou lour'st on me, do I not spend |

|Revenge upon myself with present moan? |

|What merit do I in myself respect, |

|That is so proud thy service to despise, |

|When all my best doth worship thy defect, |

|Commanded by the motion of thine eyes? |

| But, love, hate on, for now I know thy mind; |

| Those that can see thou lovest, and I am blind.|

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 150

|CL. |

|O, from what power hast thou this powerful might |

|With insufficiency my heart to sway? |

|To make me give the lie to my true sight, |

|And swear that brightness doth not grace the day?|

| |

|Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill, |

|That in the very refuse of thy deeds |

|There is such strength and warrantize of skill |

|That, in my mind, thy worst all best exceeds? |

|Who taught thee how to make me love thee more |

|The more I hear and see just cause of hate? |

|O, though I love what others do abhor, |

|With others thou shouldst not abhor my state: |

| If thy unworthiness raised love in me, |

| More worthy I to be beloved of thee. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 151

|CLI. |

|Love is too young to know what conscience is; |

|Yet who knows not conscience is born of love? |

|Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss, |

|Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove: |

|For, thou betraying me, I do betray |

|My nobler part to my gross body's treason; |

|My soul doth tell my body that he may |

|Triumph in love; flesh stays no father reason; |

|But, rising at thy name, doth point out thee |

|As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride, |

|He is contented thy poor drudge to be, |

|To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side. |

| No want of conscience hold it that I call |

| Her 'love' for whose dear love I rise and fall.|

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 152

|CLII. |

|In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn, |

|But thou art twice forsworn, to me love swearing,|

| |

|In act thy bed-vow broke and new faith torn, |

|In vowing new hate after new love bearing. |

|But why of two oaths' breach do I accuse thee, |

|When I break twenty? I am perjured most; |

|For all my vows are oaths but to misuse thee |

|And all my honest faith in thee is lost, |

|For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindness,|

| |

|Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy, |

|And, to enlighten thee, gave eyes to blindness, |

|Or made them swear against the thing they see; |

| For I have sworn thee fair; more perjured I, |

| To swear against the truth so foul a lie! |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 153


|Cupid laid by his brand, and fell asleep: |

|A maid of Dian's this advantage found, |

|And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep |

|In a cold valley-fountain of that ground; |

|Which borrow'd from this holy fire of Love |

|A dateless lively heat, still to endure, |

|And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove |

|Against strange maladies a sovereign cure. |

|But at my mistress' eye Love's brand new-fired, |

|The boy for trial needs would touch my breast; |

|I, sick withal, the help of bath desired, |

|And thither hied, a sad distemper'd guest, |

| But found no cure: the bath for my help lies |

| Where Cupid got new fire--my mistress' eyes. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 154

|CLIV. |

|The little Love-god lying once asleep |

|Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand, |

|Whilst many nymphs that vow'd chaste life to keep|

| |

|Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand |

|The fairest votary took up that fire |

|Which many legions of true hearts had warm'd; |

|And so the general of hot desire |

|Was sleeping by a virgin hand disarm'd. |

|This brand she quenched in a cool well by, |

|Which from Love's fire took heat perpetual, |

|Growing a bath and healthful remedy |

|For men diseased; but I, my mistress' thrall, |

| Came there for cure, and this by that I prove, |

| Love's fire heats water, water cools not love. |

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