William Shakespeare (1564-1616) : "Sonnet LXXII"

O, lest the world should task you to recite

What merit lived in me that you should love,

After my death, dear love, forget me quite,

For you in me can nothing worthy prove;

Unless you would devise some virtuous lie,

To do more for me than mine own desert,

And hang more praise upon deceased I

Than niggard truth would willingly impart.

O, lest your true love may seem false in this,

That you for love speak well of me untrue,

My name be buried where my body is,

And live no more to shame nor me nor you.

      For I am shamed by that which I bring forth,

      And so should you, to love things nothing worth.



Sonnets
Shakespeare's Sonnets

Glowing Dusk

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William Shakespeare (1564-1616) : "Sonnet LXXIII"

That time of year thou mayst in me behold

When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,

Bare ruined choirs where late the sweet birds sang. 

In me thou see'st the twilight of such day

As after sunset fadeth in the west,

Which by and by black night doth take away, 

Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.

In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire

That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,

As the death-bed whereon it must expire,

Consumed with that which it was nourished by.

      This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more

            strong,

      To love that well which thou must leave ere long. 

  

From "Sonnets"
Shakespeare's Sonnets

A Sky Away

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