Sonnet 125
Were 't aught to me I bore the canopy
«William Shakespeare»
Were't aught to me I bore the canopy,
With my extern the
outward honouring,
Or laid great bases
for eternity,
Which proves 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 mixed
with seconds, knows no art,
But mutual render,
only me for thee.
Hence, thou suborned
informer, a true soul
When most impeached,
stands least in thy control.
No comments:
Post a Comment