Old London Bridge - Only for Poets

Old London  Bridge - Only  for Poets
Connecting the Poets who digging heart of me Still death - Sabarnasri

HEARTY WELCOME & HAVE A NICE STAY

Thursday, May 21, 2009

William Shakespeare - Sonnet 142

Sonnet 142

CXLII.

Love is my sin and thy dear virtue hate,
Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving:
O, but with mine compare thou thine own state,
And thou shalt find it merits not reproving;
Or, if it do, not from those lips of thine,
That have profaned their scarlet ornaments
And seal'd false bonds of love as oft as mine,
Robb'd others' beds' revenues of their rents.
Be it lawful I love thee, as thou lovest those
Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee:
Root pity in thy heart, that when it grows
Thy pity may deserve to pitied be.
If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide,
By self-example mayst thou be denied!

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