classic theatre

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609. 

#39

Synopsis:

As in s. 36, the poet finds reasons to excuse the fact that he and the beloved are parted. First, it is easier to praise the beloved if they are not a “single one”; and, second, absence from the beloved gives the poet leisure to contemplate their love.

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.

(Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

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A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609. 

#38

Synopsis:

The poet attributes all that is praiseworthy in his poetry to the beloved, who is his theme and inspiration.

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 rhymers invocate;

And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth

Eternal numbers to outlive long date.

 If my slight muse do please these curious days,

 The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.

(Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

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A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609. 

#37

Synopsis:

The poet feels crippled by misfortune but takes delight in the blessings heaped by nature and fortune on the beloved.

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 crownèd 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.

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609. 

#36

Synopsis:
The poet accepts the fact that for the sake of the beloved’s honorable name, their lives must be separate and their love unacknowledged.

"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 bewailèd guilt should do thee shame,
Nor thou with public kindness honor me
Unless thou take that honor from thy name.
 But do not so. I love thee in such sort
 As, thou being mine, mine is thy good report."

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609. 

#35

Synopsis:

The poet excuses the beloved by citing examples of other naturally beautiful objects associated with things hurtful or ugly. He then accuses himself of being corrupted through excusing his beloved’s faults.

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.

(Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

Visuals from Sunrise: A Song of Two HumansDirected by F. W. Murnau, 1927 — public domain

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609. 

#34

Synopsis:

In this sonnet the sun is again overtaken by clouds, but now the sun/beloved is accused of having betrayed the poet by promising what is not delivered. The poet writes that while the beloved’s repentance and shame do not rectify the damage done, the beloved’s tears are so precious that they serve as atonement.

Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day

And make me travel forth without my cloak,

To let base clouds o’ertake me in my way,

Hiding thy brav’ry in their rotten smoke?

’Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break

To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face,

For no man well of such a salve can speak

That heals the wound and cures not the disgrace.

Nor can thy shame give physic to my grief;

Though thou repent, yet I have still the loss.

Th’ offender’s sorrow lends but weak relief

To him that bears the strong offense’s ⌜cross.⌝

 Ah, but those tears are pearl which thy love sheds,

 And they are rich and ransom all ill deeds.

(Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609. 

#33

Synopsis:

The poet describes the sun first in its glory and then after its being covered with dark clouds; this change resembles his relationship with the beloved, who is now “masked” from him. But if even the sun can be darkened, he writes, it is no wonder that earthly beings sometimes fail to remain bright and unstained. (This is the first of a series of three poems in which the beloved is pictured as having hurt the poet through some unspecified misdeed.)

Full many a glorious morning have I seen

Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye,

Kissing with golden face the meadows green,

Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy,

Anon permit the basest clouds to ride

With ugly rack on his celestial face,

And from the forlorn world his visage hide,

Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace.

Even so my sun one early morn did shine

With all-triumphant splendor on my brow,

But, out alack, he was but one hour mine;

The region cloud hath masked him from me now.

 Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth;

 Suns of the world may stain when heaven’s sun staineth.

(Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609. 

#32

Synopsis:

The poet imagines his poems being read and judged by his beloved after the poet’s death, and he asks that the poems, though not as excellent as those written by later writers, be kept and enjoyed because of the love expressed in them.

If thou survive my well-contented day

When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover,

And shalt by fortune once more resurvey

These poor rude lines of thy deceasèd lover,

Compare them with the bett’ring of the time,

And though they be outstripped by every pen,

Reserve them for my love, not for their rhyme,

Exceeded by the height of happier men.

O, then vouchsafe me but this loving thought:

“Had my friend’s muse grown with this growing age,

A dearer birth than this his love had brought

To march in ranks of better equipage.

 But since he died and poets better prove,

 Theirs for their style I’ll read, his for his love.”

(Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609. 

#31

Synopsis:

The poet sees the many friends now lost to him as contained in his beloved. Thus, the love he once gave to his lost friends is now given wholly to the beloved.

Thy bosom is endearèd with all hearts

Which I by lacking have supposèd dead,

And there reigns love and all love’s loving parts,

And all those friends which I thought burièd.

How many a holy and obsequious tear

Hath dear religious love stol’n from mine eye,

As interest of the dead, which now appear

But things removed that hidden in ⌜thee⌝ lie.

Thou art the grave where buried love doth live,

Hung with the trophies of my lovers gone,

Who all their parts of me to thee did give;

That due of many now is thine alone.

 Their images I loved I view in thee,

 And thou, all they, hast all the all of me.

(Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)

#30

Synopsis:

The poet pictures his moments of serious reflection as a court session in which his memories are summoned to appear. As they come forward, he grieves for all that he has lost, but he then thinks of his beloved friend and the grief changes to joy.

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought

I summon up remembrance of things past,

I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,

And with old woes new wail my dear time’s waste;

Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,

For precious friends hid in death’s dateless night,

And weep afresh love’s long since canceled woe,

And moan th’ expense of many a vanished sight.

Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,

And heavily from woe to woe tell o’er

The sad account of fore-bemoanèd moan,

Which I new pay as if not paid before.

 But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,

 All losses are restored and sorrows end.

(Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)