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|CXIV. |
|Or whether doth my mind, being crown'd with you, |
|Drink up the monarch's plague, this flattery? |
|Or whether shall I say, mine eye saith true, |
|And that your love taught it this alchemy, |
|To make of monsters and things indigest |
|Such cherubins as your sweet self resemble, |
|Creating every bad a perfect best, |
|As fast as objects to his beams assemble? |
|O,'tis the first; 'tis flattery in my seeing, |
|And my great mind most kingly drinks it up: |
|Mine eye well knows what with his gust is |
|'greeing, |
|And to his palate doth prepare the cup: |
| If it be poison'd, 'tis the lesser sin |
| That mine eye loves it and doth first begin. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 115

|CXV. |
|Those lines that I before have writ do lie, |
|Even those that said I could not love you dearer:|
| |
|Yet then my judgment knew no reason why |
|My most full flame should afterwards burn |
|clearer. |
|But reckoning time, whose million'd accidents |
|Creep in 'twixt vows and change decrees of kings,|
| |
|Tan sacred beauty, blunt the sharp'st intents, |
|Divert strong minds to the course of altering |
|things; |
|Alas, why, fearing of time's tyranny, |
|Might I not then say 'Now I love you best,' |
|When I was certain o'er incertainty, |
|Crowning the present, doubting of the rest? |
| Love is a babe; then might I not say so, |
| To give full growth to that which still doth |
|grow? |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 116

|CXVI. |
|Let me not to the marriage of true minds |
|Admit impediments. Love is not love |
|Which alters when it alteration finds, |
|Or bends with the remover to remove: |
|O no! it is an ever-fixed mark |
|That looks on tempests and is never shaken; |
|It is the star to every wandering bark, |
|Whose worth's unknown, although his height be |
|taken. |
|Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and |
|cheeks |
|Within his bending sickle's compass come: |
|Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, |
|But bears it out even to the edge of doom. |
| If this be error and upon me proved, |
| I never writ, nor no man ever loved. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 117

|CXVII. |
|Accuse me thus: that I have scanted all |
|Wherein I should your great deserts repay, |
|Forgot upon your dearest love to call, |
|Whereto all bonds do tie me day by day; |
|That I have frequent been with unknown minds |
|And given to time your own dear-purchased right |
|That I have hoisted sail to all the winds |
|Which should transport me farthest from your |
|sight. |
|Book both my wilfulness and errors down |
|And on just proof surmise accumulate; |
|Bring me within the level of your frown, |
|But shoot not at me in your waken'd hate; |
| Since my appeal says I did strive to prove |
| The constancy and virtue of your love. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 118

|CXVIII. |
|Like as, to make our appetites more keen, |
|With eager compounds we our palate urge, |
|As, to prevent our maladies unseen, |
|We sicken to shun sickness when we purge, |
|Even so, being tuff of your ne'er-cloying |
|sweetness, |
|To bitter sauces did I frame my feeding |
|And, sick of welfare, found a kind of meetness |
|To be diseased ere that there was true needing. |
|Thus policy in love, to anticipate |
|The ills that were not, grew to faults assured |
|And brought to medicine a healthful state |
|Which, rank of goodness, would by ill be cured: |
| But thence I learn, and find the lesson true, |
| Drugs poison him that so fell sick of you. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 119

|CXIX. |
|What potions have I drunk of Siren tears, |
|Distill'd from limbecks foul as hell within, |
|Applying fears to hopes and hopes to fears, |
|Still losing when I saw myself to win! |
|What wretched errors hath my heart committed, |
|Whilst it hath thought itself so blessed never! |
|How have mine eyes out of their spheres been |
|fitted |
|In the distraction of this madding fever! |
|O benefit of ill! now I find true |
|That better is by evil still made better; |
|And ruin'd love, when it is built anew, |
|Grows fairer than at first, more strong, far |
|greater. |
| So I return rebuked to my content |
| And gain by ill thrice more than I have spent. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 120

|CXX. |
|That you were once unkind befriends me now, |
|And for that sorrow which I then did feel |
|Needs must I under my transgression bow, |
|Unless my nerves were brass or hammer'd steel. |
|For if you were by my unkindness shaken |
|As I by yours, you've pass'd a hell of time, |
|And I, a tyrant, have no leisure taken |
|To weigh how once I suffered in your crime. |
|O, that our night of woe might have remember'd |
|My deepest sense, how hard true sorrow hits, |
|And soon to you, as you to me, then tender'd |
|The humble slave which wounded bosoms fits! |
| But that your trespass now becomes a fee; |
| Mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom me. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 121

|CXXI. |
|'Tis better to be vile than vile esteem'd, |
|When not to be receives reproach of being, |
|And the just pleasure lost which is so deem'd |
|Not by our feeling but by others' seeing: |
|For why should others false adulterate eyes |
|Give salutation to my sportive blood? |
|Or on my frailties why are frailer spies, |
|Which in their wills count bad what I think good?|
| |
|No, I am that I am, and they that level |
|At my abuses reckon up their own: |
|I may be straight, though they themselves be |
|bevel; |
|By their rank thoughts my deeds must not be |
|shown; |
| Unless this general evil they maintain, |
| All men are bad, and in their badness reign. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 122

|CXXII. |
|Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain |
|Full character'd with lasting memory, |
|Which shall above that idle rank remain |
|Beyond all date, even to eternity; |
|Or at the least, so long as brain and heart |
|Have faculty by nature to subsist; |
|Till each to razed oblivion yield his part |
|Of thee, thy record never can be miss'd. |
|That poor retention could not so much hold, |
|Nor need I tallies thy dear love to score; |
|Therefore to give them from me was I bold, |
|To trust those tables that receive thee more: |
| To keep an adjunct to remember thee |
| Were to import forgetfulness in me. |

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