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SHAKESPEARE |
From "Loverscomplaint"
''All
my offences that abroad you see
Are
errors of the blood, none of the mind;
Love
made them not: with acture they may be,
Where
neither party is nor true nor kind:
They
sought their shame that so their shame did find;
And
so much less of shame in me remains,
By
how much of me their reproach contains.
''Among
the many that mine eyes have seen,
Not
one whose flame my heart so much as warm'd,
Or
my affection put to the smallest teen,
Or
any of my leisures ever charm'd:
Harm
have I done to them, but ne'er was harm'd;
Kept
hearts in liveries, but mine own was free,
And
reign'd, commanding in his monarchy.
''Look
here, what tributes wounded fancies sent me,
Of
paled pearls and rubies red as blood;
Figuring
that they their passions likewise lent me
Of
grief and blushes, aplty understood
In
bloodless white and the encrimson'd mood;
Effects
of terror and dear modesty,
Encamp'd
in hearts, but fighting outwardly.
''And,
lo, behold these talents of their hair,
With
twisted metal amorously impleach'd,
I
have received from many a several fair,
Their
kind acceptance weepingly beseech'd,
With
the annexions of fair gems enrich'd,
And
deep-brain'd sonnets that did amplify
Each
stone's dear nature, worth, and quality.
''The
diamond, --why, 'twas beautiful and har,
Whereto
his invised properties did tend;
The
deep-green emerald, in whose fresh regard
Weak
sights their sickly radiance do amend;
The
heaven-hued sapphire and the opal blend
With
objects menifold: each several stone,
With
wit well blazon'd, smiled or made some moan.
''Lo,
all these trophies of affections hot,
Of
pensived and subdued desires the tender,
Nature
hath charged me that I hoard them not,
But
yield them up where I myself must render,
That
is, to you, my origin and ender;
For
these, of force, must your oblations be,
Since
I their altar, you enpatron me.