| 41 |
| Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits |
| When I am sometime absent from thy heart |
| Thy beauty and thy years full well befits, |
| For still temptation follows where thou art. |
| Gentle thou art, and therefore to be won ; |
| Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assailed ; |
| And when a woman woos, what woman's son |
| Will sourly leave her till he have prevailed? |
| Ay me, but yet thou mightst my seat forbear, |
| And chide thy beauty and thy straying youth |
| Who lead thee in their riot even there |
| Where thou art forced to break a two-fold troth : |
| Hers, by thy beauty tempting her to thee, |
| Thine, by thy beauty being false to me.
|
| 42 |
| That thou hast her, it is not all my grief, |
| And yet it may be said I loved her dearly ; |
| That she hath thee is of my wailing chief, |
| A loss in love that touches me more nearly. |
| Loving offenders, thus I will excuse ye : |
| Thou dost love her because thou know'st I love her, |
| And for my sake even so doth she abuse me, |
| Suff'ring my friend for my sake to approve her. |
| If I lose thee, my loss is my love's gain, |
| And losing her, my friend hath found that loss : |
| Both find each other, and I lose both twain, |
| And both for my sake lay on me this cross. |
| But here's the joy : my friend and I are one. |
| Sweet flattery ! Then she loves but me alone.
|
| 43 |
| When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see, |
| For all the day they view things unrespected ; |
| But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee, |
| And, darkly bright, are bright in dark directed. |
| Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright, |
| How would thy shadow's form form happy show |
| To the clear day with thy much clearer light, |
| When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so ! |
| How would, I say, mine eyes be blessèd made |
| By looking on thee in the living day, |
| When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade |
| Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay ! |
| All days are nights to see till I see thee, |
| And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.
|
| 44 |
| If the dull substance of my flesh were thought, |
| Injurious distance should not stop my way ; |
| For then, despite of space, I would be brought |
| From limits far remote where thou dost stay. |
| No matter then although my foot did stand |
| Upon the farthest earth removed from thee ; |
| For nimble thought can jump both sea and land |
| As soon as think the place where he would be. |
| But ah, thought kills me that I am not thought, |
| To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone, |
| But that, so much of earth and water wrought, |
| I must attend time's leisure with my moan, |
| Receiving naught by elements so slow |
| But heavy tears, badges of either's woe.
|
| 45 |
| The other two, slight air and purging fire, |
| Are both with thee wherever I abide ; |
| The first my thought, the other my desire, |
| These present-absent with swift motion slide ; |
| For when these quicker elements are gone |
| In tender embassy of love to thee, |
| My life, being made of four, with two alone |
| Sinks down to death, oppressed with melancholy, |
| Until life's composition be recured |
| By those swift messengers returned from thee, |
| Who even but now come back again assured |
| Of thy fair health, recounting it to me. |
| This told, I joy ; but then no longer glad, |
| I send them back again and straight grow
sad. |
| 46 |
| Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war |
| How to divide the conquest of thy sight. |
| Mine eye my heart thy picture's sight would bar, |
| My heart, mine eye the freedom of that right. |
| My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie, |
| A closet never pierced with crystal eyes ; |
| But the defendant doth that plea deny, |
| And says in him thy fair appearance lies. |
| To 'cide this title is empanellèd |
| A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart, |
| And by their verdict is determinèd |
| The clear eye's moiety and the dear heart's part, |
| As thus : mine eye's due is thy outward part, |
| And my heart's right thy inward love of heart.
|
| 47 |
| Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took, |
| And each doth good turns now unto the other. |
| When that mine eye is famished for a look, |
| Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother, |
| With my love's picture then my eye doth feast, |
| And to the painted banquet bids my heart. |
| Another time mine eye is my heart's guest |
| And in his thoughts of love doth share a part. |
| So either by thy picture or my love, |
| Thyself away art present still with me ; |
| For thou no farther than my thoughts canst move, |
| And I am still with them, and they with thee ; |
| Of if they sleep, thy picture in my sight |
| Awakes my heart to heart's and eye's delight.
|
| 48 |
| How careful was I when I took my way |
| Each trifle under truest bars to thrust, |
| That to my use it might unusèd stay |
| From hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust. |
| But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are, |
| Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief, |
| Thou best of dearest and mine only care |
| Art left the prey of every vulgar thief. |
| Thee have I not locked up in any chest |
| Save where thou art not, though I feel thou art - |
| Within the gentle closure of my breast, |
| From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part ; |
| And even thence thou wilt be stol'n, I fear, |
| For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear.
|
| 49 |
| Against that time - if ever that time come - |
| When I shall see thee frown on my defects, |
| Whenas thy love hath cast his utmost sum, |
| Called to that audit by advised respects ; |
| Against that time when thou shalt strangely pass |
| And scarcely greet me with that sun, thine eye, |
| When love converted from the thing it was |
| Shall reasons find of settled gravity : |
| Against that time do I ensconce me here |
| Within the knowledge of mine own desert, |
| And this my hand against myself uprear |
| To guard the lawful reasons on they part. |
| To leave poor me thou hast the strength of laws, |
| Since why to love I can allege no cause.
|
| 50 |
| How heavy do I journey on the way, |
| When what I seek - my weary travel's end - |
| Doth teach that ease and that repose to say |
| ‘Thus far the miles are measured from thy friend.’ |
| The beast that bears me, tired with my woe, |
| Plods dully on to bear that weight in me, |
| As if by some instinct the wretch did know |
| His rider loved not speed, being made from thee. |
| The bloody spur cannot provoke him on |
| That sometimes anger thrusts into his hide, |
| Which heavily he answers with a groan |
| More sharp to me than spurring to his side ; |
| For that same groan doth put this in my mind : |
My grief lies onward and my joy behind.
|
| William
Shakespeare | Classic Poems |
| |
| Ariel's Songs |
