|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. |
Sonnet 126
|CXXVI. |
|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. |
Sonnet 127
|CXXVII. |
|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. |
Sonnet 128
|CXXVIII. |
|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. |
Sonnet 129
|CXXIX. |
|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.|
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. |
Sonnet 131
|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. |
Sonnet 132
|CXXXII. |
|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. |
Sonnet 133
|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 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. |
Sonnet 134
|CXXXIV. |
|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. |
Sonnet 135
|CXXXV. |
|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.' |
Sonnet 136
|CXXXVI. |
|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.'|
Sonnet 137
|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 |
|erred, |
| And to this false plague are they now |
|transferr'd. |
Sonnet 138
|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 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. |
Sonnet 139
|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 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. |
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. |
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. |
Sonnet 142
|CXLII. |
|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! |
Sonnet 143
|CXLIII. |
|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. |
Sonnet 144
|CXLIV. |
|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. |
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.' |
Sonnet 146
|CXLVI. |
|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. |
Sonnet 147
|CXLVII. |
|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. |
Sonnet 148
|CXLVIII. |
|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. |
Sonnet 149
|CXLIX. |
|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.|
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. |
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.|
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! |
Sonnet 153
|CLIII. |
|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. |
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. |
Страницы: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
