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William Shakespeare, 1564-1616 [1640], Poems: vvritten by Wil. Shake-speare. Gent (Printed... by Tho. Cotes, and are to be sold by Iohn Benson [etc.], London) [word count] [S11600].
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Loves powerfull subtilty. [Sonnet CXLVIII / Sonnet CXLIX / Sonnet CL]
O me! what eyes hath love put in my head,
Which have no correspondence with true sight,
Or if they have, where is my judgement fled,
That censures falsely what they see aright?
If that be faire where on my false eyes dote,
What meanes the world to say it is not so?
If it be not, then love doth well denote,
Loves eye is not so true as all mens: no
How can it? Oh how can loves eye be true,
That is so vext with watching and with teares?
No marvell then though I mistake my view,
The Sunne it selfe sees not, till heaven cleeres.
  O cunning love, with teares thou keepst me blinde,
  Least eyes well seeing thy foule faults should finde.
Canst thou O cruell, say I love thee not,
When I against my selfe with thee partake:
Doe I not thinke on thee when I forgot
Am of my selfe, all tyrant for thy sake?
Who hateth thee, that I doe call my friend,
On whom froun'st thou that I doe faune upon.

-- --


Nay if thou lowrst on me, doe I not spend
Revenge upon my selfe with present mone,
What merit do I in my selfe respect,
That is so proud thy service to dispise,
When all my best doth worship thy defect,
Commanded by the motion of thine eyes.
  But love hate on for now I know thy minde,
  Those that can see thou lov'st, and I am blinde.
Oh from what power hast thou this powrefull might,
With insufficiency my heart to sway,
To make me give the lie to my true sight,
And sweare that brightnesse doth not grace the day?
Whence hast thou this becomming of things ill,
That in the very refuse of thy deeds,
There is such strength and warrantise of skill,
That in my minde thy worst all best exceeds?
Who taught thee how to make me love thee more,
The more I heare and see just cause of hate,
Oh though I love what others doe abhorre,
With others thou shouldst not abhorre my state.
  If thy unworthinesse rais'd love in me.
  More worthy I to be belov'd of thee.
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William Shakespeare, 1564-1616 [1640], Poems: vvritten by Wil. Shake-speare. Gent (Printed... by Tho. Cotes, and are to be sold by Iohn Benson [etc.], London) [word count] [S11600].
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