SHAKESPEARE'S SONNETS
Somg glory in their birth, some in their skill, | Some in their wealth, some in their body’s force; | Some in their garments, thcugh new-fangled ill;
Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse. f
And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure, Wherein it finds a joy above the rest ;
| But these particulars are not my measure,
| All these I better in one general best.
| Thy love is better than high birth to me,
Richer than wealth, prouder than garment’s cost Of more delight than hawks or horses be,
| And having thee, of a!l men's pride I boast. Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst take AI this away ; and me most wretchel make.
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So am I as the rich, whose blessed key | Can bring him to his sweei up-lockéd treasure, | The which he will not every hour survey,
| For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure.
| Therefore are feasts so soiemn and so rare, Since seldom coming, in the long year set,
| Like stones of worth they thinly placéd are, ! Or captain jewels in the carcanet.
| So.is the time that keeps you, as my chest,
! Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide, To make some special instant special-blest,
{ By new unfolding his imprison’d ride.
1 Blessed are you; whose worthiness gives scope,
| Being had, tc triumph, being lack’d, to hope!
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Those lines that I before have writ, do lie;
Even those that said I could not love‘you dearer ; Yet than my judgment knew no reason why
My mosi full flame should afterwards burn clearer.
But, reckening 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 iyranny,
Might I not then say : ‘“ Now I love you best,’ When I was certain o’er incertainty,
Crowainx the present, doubting of the rest ?
Love is a babe; then might I not say so,
To give full growth to that which sti.l doth grow ?
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