|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. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 123

|CXXIII. |

|No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change: |

|Thy pyramids built up with newer might |

|To me are nothing novel, nothing strange; |

|They are but dressings of a former sight. |

|Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire |

|What thou dost foist upon us that is old, |

|And rather make them born to our desire |

|Than think that we before have heard them told. |

|Thy registers and thee I both defy, |

|Not wondering at the present nor the past, |

|For thy records and what we see doth lie, |

|Made more or less by thy continual haste. |

| This I do vow and this shall ever be; |

| I will be true, despite thy scythe and thee. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 124

|CXXIV. |

|If my dear love were but the child of state, |

|It might for Fortune's bastard be unfather'd' |

|As subject to Time's love or to Time's hate, |

|Weeds among weeds, or flowers with flowers |

|gather'd. |

|No, it was builded far from accident; |

|It suffers not in smiling pomp, nor falls |

|Under the blow of thralled discontent, |

|Whereto the inviting time our fashion calls: |

|It fears not policy, that heretic, |

|Which works on leases of short-number'd hours, |

|But all alone stands hugely politic, |

|That it nor grows with heat nor drowns with |

|showers. |

| To this I witness call the fools of time, |

| Which die for goodness, who have lived for |

|crime. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 125

|CXXV. |

|Were 't aught to me I bore the canopy, |

|With my extern the outward honouring, |

|Or laid great bases for eternity, |

|Which prove 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 mix'd with seconds, knows no art, |

|But mutual render, only me for thee. |

| Hence, thou suborn'd informer! a true soul |

| When most impeach'd stands least in thy |

|control. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 126

|CXXVI. |

|O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power |

|Dost hold Time's fickle glass, his sickle, hour; |

|Who hast by waning grown, and therein show'st |

|Thy lovers withering as thy sweet self grow'st; |

|If Nature, sovereign mistress over wrack, |

|As thou goest onwards, still will pluck thee |

|back, |

|She keeps thee to this purpose, that her skill |

|May time disgrace and wretched minutes kill. |

|Yet fear her, O thou minion of her pleasure! |

|She may detain, but not still keep, her treasure:|

| |

| Her audit, though delay'd, answer'd must be, |

| And her quietus is to render thee. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 127

|CXXVII. |

|In the old age black was not counted fair, |

|Or if it were, it bore not beauty's name; |

|But now is black beauty's successive heir, |

|And beauty slander'd with a bastard shame: |

|For since each hand hath put on nature's power, |

|Fairing the foul with art's false borrow'd face, |

|Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower, |

|But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace. |

|Therefore my mistress' brows are raven black, |

|Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem |

|At such who, not born fair, no beauty lack, |

|Slandering creation with a false esteem: |

| Yet so they mourn, becoming of their woe, |

| That every tongue says beauty should look so. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 128

|CXXVIII. |

|How oft, when thou, my music, music play'st, |

|Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds |

|With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway'st |

|The wiry concord that mine ear confounds, |

|Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap |

|To kiss the tender inward of thy hand, |

|Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest |

|reap, |

|At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand! |

|To be so tickled, they would change their state |

|And situation with those dancing chips, |

|O'er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait, |

|Making dead wood more blest than living lips. |

| Since saucy jacks so happy are in this, |

| Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 129

|CXXIX. |

|The expense of spirit in a waste of shame |

|Is lust in action; and till action, lust |

|Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame, |

|Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust, |

|Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight, |

|Past reason hunted, and no sooner had |

|Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bait |

|On purpose laid to make the taker mad; |

|Mad in pursuit and in possession so; |

|Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme; |

|A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe; |

|Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream. |

| All this the world well knows; yet none knows |

|well |

| To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.|

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 130

|CXXX. |

|My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; |

|Coral is far more red than her lips' red; |

|If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; |

|If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. |

|I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, |

|But no such roses see I in her cheeks; |

|And in some perfumes is there more delight |

|Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. |

|I love to hear her speak, yet well I know |

|That music hath a far more pleasing sound; |

|I grant I never saw a goddess go; |

|My mistress, when she walks, treads on the |

|ground: |

| And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare |

| As any she belied with false compare. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 131

|CXXXI. |

|Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art, |

|As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel; |

|For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart |

|Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel. |

|Yet, in good faith, some say that thee behold |

|Thy face hath not the power to make love groan: |

|To say they err I dare not be so bold, |

|Although I swear it to myself alone. |

|And, to be sure that is not false I swear, |

|A thousand groans, but thinking on thy face, |

|One on another's neck, do witness bear |

|Thy black is fairest in my judgment's place. |

| In nothing art thou black save in thy deeds, |

| And thence this slander, as I think, proceeds. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 132

|CXXXII. |

|Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me, |

|Knowing thy heart torments me with disdain, |

|Have put on black and loving mourners be, |

|Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain. |

|And truly not the morning sun of heaven |

|Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east, |

|Nor that full star that ushers in the even |

|Doth half that glory to the sober west, |

|As those two mourning eyes become thy face: |

|O, let it then as well beseem thy heart |

|To mourn for me, since mourning doth thee grace, |

|And suit thy pity like in every part. |

| Then will I swear beauty herself is black |

| And all they foul that thy complexion lack. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 133

|CXXXIII. |

|Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan |

|For that deep wound it gives my friend and me! |

|Is't not enough to torture me alone, |

|But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be? |

|Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken, |

|And my next self thou harder hast engross'd: |

|Of him, myself, and thee, I am forsaken; |

|A torment thrice threefold thus to be cross'd. |

|Prison my heart in thy steel bosom's ward, |

|But then my friend's heart let my poor heart |

|bail; |

|Whoe'er keeps me, let my heart be his guard; |

|Thou canst not then use rigor in my gaol: |

| And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee, |

| Perforce am thine, and all that is in me. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 134

|CXXXIV. |

|So, now I have confess'd that he is thine, |

|And I myself am mortgaged to thy will, |

|Myself I'll forfeit, so that other mine |

|Thou wilt restore, to be my comfort still: |

|But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free, |

|For thou art covetous and he is kind; |

|He learn'd but surety-like to write for me |

|Under that bond that him as fast doth bind. |

|The statute of thy beauty thou wilt take, |

|Thou usurer, that put'st forth all to use, |

|And sue a friend came debtor for my sake; |

|So him I lose through my unkind abuse. |

| Him have I lost; thou hast both him and me: |

| He pays the whole, and yet am I not free. |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 135

|CXXXV. |

|Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy 'Will,' |

|And 'Will' to boot, and 'Will' in overplus; |

|More than enough am I that vex thee still, |

|To thy sweet will making addition thus. |

|Wilt thou, whose will is large and spacious, |

|Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine? |

|Shall will in others seem right gracious, |

|And in my will no fair acceptance shine? |

|The sea all water, yet receives rain still |

|And in abundance addeth to his store; |

|So thou, being rich in 'Will,' add to thy 'Will' |

|One will of mine, to make thy large 'Will' more. |

| Let no unkind, no fair beseechers kill; |

| Think all but one, and me in that one 'Will.' |

Sonnets of William Shakespeare

Sonnet 136

|CXXXVI. |

|If thy soul cheque thee that I come so near, |

|Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy 'Will,' |

|And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there; |

|Thus far for love my love-suit, sweet, fulfil. |

|'Will' will fulfil the treasure of thy love, |

|Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one. |

|In things of great receipt with ease we prove |

|Among a number one is reckon'd none: |

|Then in the number let me pass untold, |

|Though in thy stores' account I one must be; |

|For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold |

|That nothing me, a something sweet to thee: |

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