HomeWilliam ShakespeareSonnets

Sonnet 21. Shakespeare

Sonnet 21. Illustrated by Henry Ospovat

Sonnet 21. Illustrated by Henry Ospovat

So is it not with me as with that Muse,
Stirr'd by a painted beauty to his verse,
Who heaven itself for ornament doth use
And every fair with his fair doth rehearse,
Making a couplement of proud compare'
With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems,
With April's first-born flowers, and all things rare,
That heaven's air in this huge rondure hems.
O! let me, true in love, but truly write,
And then believe me, my love is as fair
As any mother's child, though not so bright
As those gold candles fix'd in heaven's air:
    Let them say more that like of hearsay well;
    I will not praise that purpose not to sell.

William Shakespeare, 1598

Sonnet 21. First edition of Shakespeare's Sonnets, 1609.

Sonnet 21. First edition of Shakespeare's Sonnets, 1609.

Next page →

← 21 page Sonnets 23 page →
Pages:  21  22  23  24  25  26  27  28  29  30  31  32  33  34  35  36  37  38  39  40 
Overall 155 pages


© elibrary.club
feedback