Sonnet 40

I had to memorize this Shakespeare sonnet a year or so ago for a class, and for some reason it decided to resurface in my mind today....So I thought I'd share it with you :)

Sonnet 40

Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all;
What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?
No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call;
All mine was thine before thou hadst this more.
Then, if for my love thou my love receivest,
I cannot blame thee for my love thou usest;
But yet be blam'd, if thou thyself deceivest
By wilful taste of what thyself refusest.
I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief,
Although thou steal thee all my poverty;
And yet, love knows it is a great grief
To bear love's wrong than hate's known injury.
     Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,
     Kill me with spites; yet we must not be foes.


Until you next see these words;
I'll be watching the leaves.
Enjoy the day!

-Sarnic Dirchi