No more be grieved at that which thou hast done:
Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud;
Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,
And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.
All men make faults, and even I in this,
Authorizing thy trespass with compare,
Myself corrupting, salving thy amiss,
Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are;
For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense-
Thy adverse party is thy advocate—
And 'gainst myself a lawful plea commence :
Such civil war is in my love and hate,
That I an accessary needs must be
To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.
Let me confess that we two must be twain,
Although our undivided loves are one:
So shall those blots that do with me remain
Without thy help by me be borne alone.
In our two loves there is but one respect,
Though in our lives a separable spite,
Which though it alter not love's sole effect,
Yet doth it steal sweet hours from love's delight.
I may not evermore acknowledge thee,
Lest my bewailed guilt should do thee shame,
Nor thou with public kindness honour me,
Unless thou take that honour from thy name:
But do not so; I love thee in such sort
As, thou being mine, mine is thy good report.
Nolis ulterius, nolis, admissa dolere;
Fert rosa nam spinas, claraque lympha lutum.
Defectu et nebulis maculant sol lunaqué sese,
Tetraque sub tenero germine pestis erit.
Sic homines peccant, ego certe, exempla legendo
Auctor nequitiae factus et ipse tuae.
Dedecus inque meum tua purgo sequius acta
Ac veniae supra, quem meruere, modum.
Siquid amore in me peccas, ibi causor amorem,
Oppositae partis gratificatus opem.
Lis mihi fit quaedam mecum, nam pectoris irae
Cum pietate in me talia bella gerunt,
Vt nequeam non et tua demum furta tueri,
Furta in me domini dulcis amara mei.
Dividuis, fateor, iam nobis vita terenda est,
Quos individuos attinet unus amor;
Sic probra nota meae, mecum restantia, sortis
Te sine, te nullum participante, feram.
Vnus amor nobis eadem petit, una duobus
Dissociat vitas ira maligna deûm;
Illaque, ut effectus nunquam mutarit amoris,
Tempora deliciis eius habenda negat.
Illicitum posthac te voltu agnoscere ducam,
Ne sceleris triste hoc sit tibi, care, probro;
Neve palam alloquii tu me digneris honore,
Ni tibi vis demptum qui mihi detur honos.
Quod fieri nolis; te sic amplector, ut ipse
Si meus es, curae sit tua fama meae.
As a decrepit father takes delight
To see his active child do deeds of youth,
So I, made lame by fortune's dearest spite,
Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth.
For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit,
Or any of these all, or all, or more,
Entitled in thy parts do crowned sit,
I make my love engrafted to this store:
So then I am not lame, poor, nor despised,
Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give
That I in thy abundance am sufficed
And by a part of all thy glory live.
Look, what is best, that best I wish in thee:
This wish I have; then ten times happy me!
How can my Muse want subject to invent,
While thou dost breathe, that pour'st into my verse
Thine own sweet argument, too excellent
For every vulgar paper to rehearse?
O, give thyself the thanks, if aught in me
Worthy perusal stand against thy sight;
For who's so dumb that cannot write to thee,
When thou thyself dost give invention light?
Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth
Than those old nine which rimers invocate;
And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth
Eternal numbers to outlive long date.
my slight Muse do please these curious days, The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.
Vt iuvene in nato fortissima cernere gaudet
Invalidus senio decrepitusve pater,
Sic ego, fortunae laesus per tela, levamen
Invenio in meritis ac pietate tuis.
Si bona possideas nonnulla vel omnia demum
Ingenii, formae, nobilitatis, opum,
Sive alio te sub titulo laus ulla coronat,
His etiam cunctis noster adhaeret amor.
Nec fuerit pauper claudusve aut nomine nullo,
Cui solidae tantum sufficit umbra rei;
Laudis namque mihi tua copia praebet abunde,
Ac tua, parsve tuae, gloria vita mihi est.
Cuncta tibi rerum precor optima, compos et eius
Optati deciens inde beatus ego.
Qui sua materies musam defecerit, auras
Tu mihi vitales donec, amice, trahis;
Tu qui dulce mei sis carminis argumentum,
Quod nequeat vilis quisque tenere liber?
O referas ad te, siqua in me digna legendo
Obvenient oculis, si modo digna, tuis;
Mutus ita est quisquamne ut te non dicere possit,
Vatibus o doctis luminis ipse dator?
Tu decima esto Musa, potentior una novenis
Quas rogat antiquus versificator opem.
Invocat et qui te numeros effundere possit
Exsuperaturos saecula multa virûm.
Si tenuis doctae placeat mea musa diei,
Cura mea, at laudis sit tuus omnis honos.
O, how thy worth with manners may I sing,
When thou art all the better part of me?
What can mine own praise to mine own self bring?
And what is 't but mine own when I praise thee?
Even for this let us divided live,
And our dear love lose name of single one,
That by this separation I may give
That due to thee which thou deserv'st alone.
O absence, what a torment wouldst thou prove,
Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave
To entertain the time with thoughts of love,
Which time and thoughts so sweetly doth deceive,
And that thou teachest how to make one twain,
By praising him here who doth hence remain!
Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all;
What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?
No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call;
All mine was thine before thou hadst this more.
Then if for my love thou my love receivest,
I cannot blame thee for my love thou usest;
But yet be blamed, if thou thyself deceivest
By wilful taste of what thyself refusest.
I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief,
Although thou steal thee all my poverty;
And yet, love knows it is a greater grief
To bear love's wrong than hate's known injury.
Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,
Kill me with spites; yet we must not be foes.
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