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Shakespeare Poems Part II
The Wedding Directory’s Collection of Shakespeare Poems continued…
Sonnet 105: Let Not My Love Be Called Idolatry
Let not my love be called idolatry,
Nor my beloved as an idol show,
Since all alike my songs and praises be
To one, of one, still such, and ever so.
Kind is my love to-day, to-morrow kind,
Still constant in a wondrous excellence;
Therefore my verse to constancy confined,
One thing expressing, leaves out difference.
Fair, kind, and true, is all my argument,
Fair, kind, and true, varying to other words;
And in this change is my invention spent,
Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords.
Fair, kind, and true, have often lived alone,
Which three till now, never kept seat in one.
The object of the poet’s affection is youthful and beautiful, and he will love her until infinity.
Love Sonnet 109: Oh, Never Say That I Was False of Heart
O, never say that I was false of heart,
Though absence seemed my flame to qualify.
As easy might I from my self depart
As from my soul which in thy breast doth lie.
That is my home of love; if I have ranged,
Like him that travels I return again,
Just to the time, not with the time exchanged,
So that myself bring water for my stain.
Never believe though in my nature reigned
All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood,
That it could so preposterously be stained
To leave for nothing all thy sum of good;
For nothing this wide universe I call
Save thou, my rose, in it thou art my all
Using the image of traveling as a metaphor, the poet stresses that, although he and his love have been forced to spend time apart, his love has not lessened; that, wherever he shall travel, he shall always return to his one, true love.
Sonnet 116: Let Me Not to the Marriage of True Minds
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments; love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no, it is an ever-fixèd mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand’ring bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his heighth be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Arguably, Shakespeare’s most well known and best-loved sonnet. Its theme is eternal and unchanging love – or love in its most ideal form – and it alludes to the marriage service itself. In the famous line, ‘love is not love which alters when it alterations finds’, Shakespeare stresses that love is not judgemental or conditional; rather it is constant and unwavering.
Sonnet 130: My Mistress’ Eyes Are Nothing Like the Sun
My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
Written with more than a dash of irony and Shakespeare’s characteristically wry humour, it contains several surprising similes (a comparison of two unlike things). We normally expect poets to idealise their sweethearts, but in Sonnet 130, Shakespeare presents us with the cold, hard facts – his love may not be supermodel material, but he is still completely besotted with her!
Sonnet 141: In Faith I Do Not Love Thee With Mine Eyes
In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But ’tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who, in despite of view, is pleased to dote.
Nor are mine ears with thy tongue’s tune delighted;
Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone,
Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
To any sensual feast with thee alone:
But my five wits nor my five senses can
Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
Who leaves unsway’d the likeness of a man,
Thy proud heart’s slave and vassal wretch to be:
Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
That she that makes me sin awards me pain.
In Sonnet 141, the poet acknowledges his deep feelings of intrigue and wonder he has for the object of his affection. While he finds her completely beguiling and attractive, he cannot quite place his figure on what it is exactly that he finds so enticing and appealing about her.














