Jonathan ROBIN

(22 September / London)

Sonnet Cycle to M C after William Shakespeare Sonnets CI - CXXX


[c] Jonathan Robin

Sang to M.C. Sonnet Cycle after William Shakespeare: Sonnets Sonnets LXXXI - C

CARE IS OUR DREAM

Sonnet Cycle after William Shakespeare:


Shakespeare Sonnet CI


O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends
For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed ?
Both truth and beauty on my love depends;
So dost thou too, and therein dignified.
Make answer, Muse: wilt thou not haply say,
Truth needs no colour, with his colour fixed;
Beauty no pencil, beauty's truth to lay;
But best is best, if never intermixed ?
Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb ?
Excuse not silence so, for 't lies in thee
To make him much outlive a gilded tomb
And to be prais'd of ages yet to be.
Then do thy office, Muse; I teach thee how
To make him seem long hence as he shows now.

Sonnet CI
Speak truant Muse, how may you make amends
After neglecting truth in beauty dyed ?
Need we repeat our aims must coincide,
Goes not true love to both, on both depend ?
Thus fond, fond, Muse, wave wand, respond, unbend,
Of truth Truth needs no colour, colour fixed,
Moreover counterfeit praise can’t be mixed
As pen Fate’s tender trend intends, fair friend.
Mute others’ praise, ground down to darkest tomb,
Adoration one alone deserves
Until the end of Time, of light’s bright curves,
Dumb silence greets pretenders’ barren womb.
Eternal sum mum whose sun cannot set
Call Future follows, dreams on maid unmet.

Shakespeare Sonnet CII

My love is strengthen'd, though more weak in seeming;
I love not less, though less the show appear:
That love is merchandised whose rich esteeming
The owner's tongue doth publish every where.
Our love was new, and then but in the spring,
When I was wont to greet it with my lays;
As Philomel in summer's front doth sing,
And stops her pipe in growth of riper days:
Not that the summer is less pleasant now
Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,
But that wild music burthens every bough
And sweets grown common lose their dear delight.
Therefore, like her, I sometime hold my tongue,
Because I would not dull you with my song.

Sonnet CII Strophe
Strong gleams love’s dream although no strength is seeming,
As love's not less though less its shine appears,
Nor is love rich which ethics mines, esteeming
Guarantees need broadcast far and near.
True tenderness once blossomed in the Spring -
One season’s joy, of Rose and Nightingale -
Must mournful Winter's ice crop Love's flight wing
Appearance frozen, weary Time turned stale?
Mournful music burdens air both night
And day, while every bough’s pinched by harsh frost,
Unallayed is agony, delight
Dumb, hung, while one can never count the cost.
Elsewhere men hold their tongues: love, which seemed strong,
Collapses into torture storied song.

Shakespeare Sonnet CII

My love is strengthen'd, though more weak in seeming;
I love not less, though less the show appear:
That love is merchandised whose rich esteeming
The owner's tongue doth publish every where.
Our love was new, and then but in the spring,
When I was wont to greet it with my lays;
As Philomel in summer's front doth sing,
And stops her pipe in growth of riper days:
Not that the summer is less pleasant now
Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,
But that wild music burthens every bough
And sweets grown common lose their dear delight.
Therefore, like her, I sometime hold my tongue,
Because I would not dull you with my song.

Sonnet CII Anti-Strophe

Strong is love's song whatever light is gleaming,
As love's not less though less its beam appears,
Nor is love rich which Earth's worth mines, esteeming
G[u]ilt edged guarantees needs far and near.
True tenderness this year may come to bloom,
One accord affords adored elation,
May reincarnation twinned tracks resume,
Announcing shared cake’s [spl]icing celebration
Metamorphis brings coronation
As love through sharing links to lasting light.
US, transcending bubble reputation,
Destiny fulfills, thrills with blessings clear.
Embraced is praise from which none may abstain,
Cause none need plead again, from you springs gain.

Shakespeare Sonnet CIII

Alack! what poverty my Muse brings forth,
That having such a scope to show her pride,
The argument, all bare, is of more worth
Than when it hath my added praise beside!
O! blame me not, if I no more can write!
Look in your glass, and there appears a face
That over-goes my blunt invention quite,
Dulling my lines and doing me disgrace.
Were it not sinful then, striving to mend,
To mar the subject that before was well ?
For to no other pass my verses tend
Than of your graces and your gifts to tell;
And more, much more, than in my verse can sit,
Your own glass shows you when you look in it.

Sonnet CIII
Scope for self-pride's apparent in this work
Adapting truth to trace lace transient whim.
Narcissism jars, parts start to irk,
Ghosting Shakespearean stanzas neat and trim.
Though rosy cheeks and figures fair attract
On days of joy till usage cloys love's verse,
My Dear, ‘Why butter bread? ’ you'd ask with tact,
As understatement only sounds perverse.
Mistrust these rambling lines which only err
Attempting to improve on peerless grace,
Unchallenged are your talents, all prefer
Dreaming upon one face, spurn others’ trace.
Exquisite gifts! This mirror magic’s tame
Compared to charmed perfection verse can’t frame.

Shakespeare Sonnet CIV

To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I eyed,
Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold
Have from the forests shook three summer's pride,
Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turned
In process of the seasons have I seen,
Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burned,
Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.
Ah! yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand,
Steal from his figure, and no peace perceived;
So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceived:
For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred:
Ere you were born was beauty's summer dead.

Sonnet CIV
Seen through my eyes you never can grow old,
As you fare now, so fair you’ll ever be.
No other named could dare compare, they’re cold,
Glow on, outstanding depth and quality.
The rise and fall of seasons have I seen,
Of three years write, Time’s flight defeated,
May theme’s September’s scene, green springs joy’s sheen,
As round your will the Muses nine seem seated.
Magnificence mush challenge Time’s advance
As clock stock still must stand for evermore,
Unless lunatic mind’s entranced by chance
Delight and moonshine topsy turvy’s turned brain’s core.
Envy shall show, Past, Future, also-ran.
Compared, Today, all fall outside your span.


Shakespeare Sonnet CIV


To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I eyed,
Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold
Have from the forests shook three summer's pride,
Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turned
In process of the seasons have I seen,
Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burned,
Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.
Ah! yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand,
Steal from his figure, and no peace perceived;
So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceived:
For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred:
Ere you were born was beauty's summer dead.

Sonnet CIV BIS

Seen through love’s eyes you never shall grow old,
As flourish nourished, blossom e’er in bloom.
Never worn though most mourn dawn drawn cold,
Give ground, unsound, live ringed around in gloom.
Three years the seasons’ cycle damascene
Open engraved clime’s rhyme on Time defeated,
May decays, age preys, yet you stay green.
Applause is due, bemused, no Muse, stays seated.
Maybe your glory might bewitch my mind
Add Maude to ‘Tempus fugit! ’, it stands still,
Unless delusion reigns and truth unkind
Denies you both eternal light and will.
Echo must future generations teach,
Convince true beauty lies beyond their reach.

Shakespeare Sonnet CV

Let not my love be called idolatry,
Nor my belovèd as an idol show,
Since all alike my songs and praises be
To one, of one, still such, and ever so.
Kind is my love today, tomorrow kind,
Still constant in a wondrous excellence;
Therefore my verse, to constancy confined,
One thing expressing, leaves out difference.
'Fair, kind, and true' is all my argument,
'Fair, kind, and true' varying to other words;
And in this change is my invention spent,
Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords.
'Fair, kind, and true' have often lived alone,
which three till now never kept seat in one.

Sonnet CV

Spurn not love’s bind as blind idolatry,
Assert not this ideal an idle show:
Now praise strong phrase expressing phases free,
Germane to one whose flow unique all know.
Thorn free fair friend, - a perfumed rose, sweet, kind,
Optimum of constant excellence.
My lines, no less to constancy confined,
Attest this truth, admit no difference.
Motto: fair, kind, and true’s my unique theme
Attuned to three in one sets sonnets’ scene,
Undercurrent constant to life’s scheme:
Dear, note these three so seldom linked are seen.
Empress of all three alone you reign,
Complete fair, kind, AND true, come shine or rain.

Shakespeare Sonnet CVI

When in the chronicle of wasted time
I see descriptions of the fairest wights,
And beauty making beautiful old rime,
In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights,
Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best,
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
I see their antique pen would have expressed
Even such a beauty as you master now.
So all their praises are but prophecies
Of this our time, all you prefiguring;
And, for they looked but divining eyes,
They had not skill enough you worth to sing:
For we, which now behold these present days,
Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.

Sonnet CVI

Set into chronicles of perjured time
A chapter's added – all else shown as jest,
No explanations for their p[h]antomime
Gathered survive to leave one second-guessed.
Though rapid rises favour fast defeat,
Only through you Eternity's unreeled.
My shield of beauty, - brow, hands, lips, eyes, feet,
Appeals self-evident, truth unconcealed.
Many generations prophesied
As much divinity as you’ve revealed,
Unhappy all, their high hopes set aside,
Denied as until now you’ve been concealed.
Except we now, tongue-tied, with wonder gaze,
Can just adore what we’re inapt to praise.

Shakespeare Sonnet CVII

Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul
Of the wide world dreaming on things to come,
Can yet the lease of my true love control,
Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom.
The mortal moon hath her eclipse endured,
And the sad augurs mock their own presage;
Incertainties now crown themselves assured,
And peace proclaims olives of endless age.
Now with the drops of this most balmy time
My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes,
Since, spite of him, I'll live in this poor rime,
While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes:
And thou in this shalt find thy monument,
When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent.


Sonnet CVII

Still will this fancy stay your monument
Although the seasons leapfrog through the years
Nor does it matter if its argument
Greeted be by spite from jealous peers.
True love relates, can’t mutilate these thoughts,
Offered as overture to symphony.
Matter small withal if I’m thought caught
As fly within a self-made web for free.
My love shines bright while Death draws near to me,
Alas through global warming one grows chill,
Untold her story’s glory, mine soon memory
Descends to dark according to His will.
Egoist, I’d seek a monument
Corresponding to that which she’s sent.

Shakespeare Sonnet CVIII

What's in the brain, that inks may character,
Which hath not figured to thee my true spirit ?
What's new to speak, what new to register,
That may express my love, or thy dear merit ?
Nothing, sweet boy; but yet, like prayers divine,
I must each day say o'er the very same;
Counting no old thing old, thou mine, I thine,
Even as when first I hallowed thy fair name.
So that eternal love in love's fresh case
Weighs not the dust and injury of age,
Nor gives to necessary wrinkles place,
But makes antiquity for aye his page;
Finding the first conceit of love there bred,
Where time and outward form would show it dead.


Sonnet CVIII

Symbols show true character, should ink
Admiration, spirit, brain, portrayed.
New aspects nonetheless remain I think
Glad serve one passion, one respect rich paid.
Theme, though repeated through these sonnets played,
Old offers vestments new, which, coloured pink
Make clear romance returns to one with wink,
Appetite enhancing unafraid.
Memory no tricks plays where love’s true,
Alternatives denies from youth to age,
Unseen are wrinkles in fair one I’d woo,
Defied is Time, love, constant, eyes neat page.
Evidence undisputed, you’re elite,
Crème de la crème, conceit fleet flees fair feat.

Shakespeare Sonnet CIX

O, never say that I was false of heart,
Though absence seemed my flame to qualify.
As easy might I from myself depart
As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie:
That is my home of love: if I have ranged,
Like him that travels, I return again;
Just to the time, not with the time exchanged,
So that myself bring water for my stain.
Never believe, though in my nature reigned
All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood,
That it could so preposterously be stained,
To leave for nothing all thy sum of good;
For nothing this wide universe I call,
Save thou, my rose; in it thou art my all.

Sonnet CIX

Say never, fair, that I was false at heart,
Although forced absence seemed to qualify
No distances protest, you'll stay a part
Gigantic of existence, heart and eye
Triumph, confirm you have been from the start.
Our synapses did until now defy
Most normal comprehension. Neurones dart,
At last decode heart’s symptoms on the fly.
Methinks though feeble, tainted in my ways,
At least I stay unstained by perjury
Understanding summum signs your days,
Deny who dares, you’re everything to me.
Each object in the universe lacks worth!
Climbs other rose with you sun, sky, rain, earth?

Shakespeare Sonnet CX

Alas ! 'tis true I have gone here and there,
And made myself a motley to the view,
Gored my own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear.
Made old offences of affections new;
Most true it is that I have looked on truth
Askance and strangely; but, by all above,
These blenches gave my heart another youth,
And worse essays prov'd thee my best of love.
Now all is done, save what shall have no end:
Mine appetite I never more will grind
On newer proof, to try an older friend,
A god in love, to whom I am confined.
Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best,
Even to thy pure and most loving breast.


Sonnet CX

So much, 'tis true, I've gadded here and there,
And played the fool, abused that play as tool,
Nor scrupled yet to trade though cupboard bare
Gambling ‘gainst Time, while stretching every rule.
Tis truth to say I've led a merry dance
Over the years, - yet here sincere I claim
May fresh page write itself - Past glance askance,
Approach shared future in a fairer frame.
My spendthrift past turns to one constant end,
Away won’t stray with gourmand appetite,
Unswervingly I’ll serve love’s only friend,
Deferring to soul’s flame, sole aim in sight.
Enchantress welcome my rest on your breast
Convinced my heaven’s there – of all the best.

Shakespeare Sonnet CXI

0! for my sake do you with Fortune chide,
The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds,
That did not better for my life provide
Than public means, which public manners breeds.
Thence comes it that my name receives a brand,
And almost thence my nature is subdued
To what it works in, like the dyer's hand:
Pity me, then, and wish I were renewed;
Whilst like a willing patient, I will drink
Potions of eisel 'gainst my strong infection;
No bitterness that I will bitter think,
Nor double penance, to correct correction.
Pity me, then, dear friend, and I assure ye
Even that your pity is enough to cure me.

Sonnet CXI

Start and finish are for me the same
As henceforth I'll be ruled by soul’s sole star,
Nourishment divine gleams from one flame,
Glows, pulsing flows, should we be near or far.
Thank you, charmed catalyst, whose magic spell
Once cast resuscitates a lasting hope,
Magic night-light on whom dreams must dwell –
Apart from you steps awkward prove, hands grope
Maintaining separate from you all taste
As bitter turns as life left from love stranded;
Unless your will’s obeyed all gems show paste,
Double penance owed, caged prisoner branded.
Eternal goal: freed from the gaol of life,
Cure through your pity, joy replacing strife.

Shakespeare Sonnet CXII

Thy love and pity doth the impression fill
Which vulgar scandal stamped upon my brow;
For what care I who calls me well or ill,
So you o'er-green my bad, my good allow ?
You are my all-the-world, and I must strive
To know my shames and praises from your tongue;
None else to me, nor I to none alive,
That my steeled sense or changes right or wrong.
In so profound abysm I throw all care
Of others' voices, that my adder's sense
To critic and to flatterer stoppèd are
Mark how with my neglect I do dispense:
You are so strongly in my purpose bred,
That all the world besides methinks are dead.

Sonnet CXII

Scandal's stamped one image on my brow
As for no other care I well or ill,
Nectar’s tart, tort where other claims allow,
Gold seems dull, you only dreams fulfill.
THE star you are, my ALL, your light I'd [le]earn,
On everything obedient to true tongue,
Mean nought all others, I to none could turn,
Alone your right must rule my right and wrong.
My sense of world’s concerns has spun awry,
Aware of neither critic’s, flatterer’s noise,
Unique one spark whose flame may Time defy,
Despised all others, static which annoys.
Entire attention you attract, all else,
Can think me dead as I must think them false.

Shakespeare Sonnet CXIII

Since I left you my eye is in my mind;
And that which governs me to go about
Doth part his function and is partly blind,
Seems seeing, but effectually is out;
For it no form delivers to the heart
Of bird, of flower, or shape, which it doth latch:
Of his quick objects hath the mind no part,
Nor his own vision holds what it doth catch;
For if it see the rud'st or gentlest sight,
The most sweet favour, or deformed'st creature,
The mountain or the sea, the day or night,
The crow or dove, it shapes them to your feature -
Incapable of more, replete with you,
My most true mind thus maketh mine untrue.

Sonnet CXIII

Since first we spoke I woke in heart and mind;
And motivations moving me about
Now play their part, trace race once partly blind,
Go here and there, rule side-effects are out.
Thus mind’s eye may identify no form
Of bird, of bloom, no shape save your’s can catch
Mine eyes no objects common mind inform,
Always behind my mind I find your match.
Multiplied through everything I see,
All, from worm to angel, sea, earth, sky,
Unfading beauty duplicate, you’re key
Deforming atoms to one portrait nigh,
Extending praise in phase, which phrase competes,
Converts true mind to lying truth completes.

Shakespeare Sonnet CXIV

Or whether doth my mind, being crowned with you,
Drink up the monarch's plague, this flattery ?
Or whether shall I say, mine eyes saith true,
And that your love taught it this alchemy,
To make of monsters and things indigest
Such cherubins as you 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 poisoned, 'tis the lesser sin
That mine eye loves it and doth first begin.

Sonnet CXIV

Such all-embracing qualities as these
Are rare when taken one by one, entire,
No other could combine, their source each sees
Glows daily greater, golden soul soars higher.
Their rays wide spectrum span, ride well beyond,
On all dimensions they expand Love’s see,
My Dear none else inspires such timeless bond -
Alone here’s s[h]own infinite alchemy.
My eyes can’t fail to recognize charm’s wine
A priceless vintage far from flattery,
Unequalled robe, bouquet, and taste divine
Deep ruby artistry beats artist’s heart,
Exquisite, sweet, if poison, share the cup
Clear sight which hitherto wore mask drinks up.

Shakespeare Sonnet CXV

Those lines that I before have writ do lie,
Even those that said I could not love you dearer:
Yet then my judgement 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 ?

Sonnet CXV

Such lines I wrote before scored outright lie,
Asserting I could never love you dearer:
Not knowing there'd be any reason why
Glad love’s full flame could afterwards burn clearer.
Though now I know that Time's coincidence
Outweighs the rules of mice and men and kings,
Mars beauty's star, blunts keenest instruments,
Advancing strong minds into altering things.
My love, enthroned, disowns Time’s tyranny
Announcing 'You’re the one I love the best! '
Uncertainty is banished, fear’s at sea,
Doubt doubts all doubt, though pessimists protest.
Endless time adds time to time in store,
Complicity whose flow grows more and more.

Shakespeare Sonnet 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-fixèd mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to any 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.

Sonnet CXVI
So do not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
New altered where it alteration finds,
Gagged where it is deemed prudent to remove.
Tempests may blow, an ever-fixèd mark,
Once found remains unshaken, laughs on foes
Magnet Star 'tis to each wandering bark,
A lighthouse braving Summer storms, Spring snows,
Mainstay steady although years melt to weeks,
All else in thrall to Death, doom's drum so cruel
Unswerving love shuns surface rose lips, cheeks,
Dares challenge Fate and yet is not Time's fool.
Erroneous this? if seen, upon me proved,
Could no man ever write, no man ever loved.

Shakespeare Sonnet 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 wakened hate;
Since my appeal says I did strive to prove
The constancy and virtue of your love.

Sonnet CXVII
Say that on others I have bent my eye,
Attention paid where slight was truly due,
Note this as error, proving by and by,
Granting all now begins, ends, friend, in you.
Thus chide me not that too much time is spent
On search for idle dreams, note too each fault, -
My need to write your name don’t blame for[e] sent
Are instincts chiding take with pinch of salt.
Muse who’s elect reproof cant justify
As twinned hearts bloom, win/win resume, assume
Unworthy are all others which the eye
Deems into orbit spins, they earn no room.
Eden’s leaves spurn perjury, truth prove,
Can less than all stand, testify true love?

Shakespeare Sonnet 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 full of your ne'er-cloying sweetness,
To bitter sauces did I frame my feeling;
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.


Sonnet CXVIII

Some take, to make great appetites seem keen,
Additives to urge tongue’s taste–buds surge.
Now others, when unwell, and illness purge
Grow careful of all malady unseen.
Thus I, when overwhelmed by sweetness rare
Opted for bitter physic’s compensation,
Meet found it, fearing my elation’s station,
As emptiness might follow joys too fair.
Most who through strategy anticipate
A disappointment, love betrayed, assure
Unfortunate fate they say they would deflate,
Denying trust mistrust must make more sure
Evidently one lesson learned holds true
Cured none may be who take no cue from you,

Shakespeare Sonnet CXIX

What potions have I drunk of Siren tears,
Distilled 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 blessèd 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 ruined 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.

Sonnet CXIX

.

What potions have I drunk of Siren tears,
Distilled 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 blessèd 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 ruined 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.

Sonnet CXIX

Still losing self when self I sought to win,
Applying fears to hopes, and hopes to fears,
Nor heeding prudence, lost in tables' spin,
Gad I adreaming he[a]r[t] through siren tears ?
True, timeless love, when shared through thick and thin
On time increases, envelopes the world, -
Made better, evil pales, forgiven sin
Admits Love's nest with pearled twinned doves encurled.
Mistrust mistrust! Why dock wings scaled to soar,
Apart from her there is no softer voice,
Unfelt discarded love may grow much more
Ne’er lack of harmony annuls free choice.
Ever I’ll gain thrice more than she expends,
Constrained, rebuked, indulgent thrill tears mends.

Submitted: Saturday, October 17, 2009


Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Sonnet Cycle to M C after William Shakespeare Sonnets CI - CXXX by Jonathan ROBIN )

Enter the verification code :

  • Is It Poetry (10/17/2009 6:41:00 PM)

    this was a lot of work..
    and nice...to hear the old language spoken..
    once again..iip (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. the tail of poet, ademola oluwabusayo
  2. the way of the world, ademola oluwabusayo
  3. HELPLESS, Soumita Sarkar Ray
  4. A piece of my ground, Soumita Sarkar Ray
  5. Tick Tock, Michael Mira
  6. Love Burns, Khairul Ahsan
  7. Whispers, Mihaela Pirjol
  8. For Your Family Pride, Are You Going To .., Bijay Kant Dubey
  9. The Tears of A Woman, Who Can Underatnd .., Bijay Kant Dubey
  10. Love Is A Groovy Thing, Electric Lady

Poem of the Day

poet Edmund Spenser

Of this worlds theatre in which we stay,
My love like the spectator ydly sits
Beholding me that all the pageants play,
Disguysing diversly my troubled wits.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]