130

When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,

I all alone beweep my outcast state

And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries

And look upon myself and curse my fate,

Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,

Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,

Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,

With what I most enjoy contented least;

Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,

Haply I think on thee, and then my state,

Like to the lark at break of day arising

From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;

For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings

That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

29 Paraphrased

When I’m unlucky and I’m despised,

All alone I weep to be so stuck.

My prayers to heaven are useless cries.

I look at myself, and curse my luck.

I wish I were like one whose future was brighter.

I wish I looked like him and had friends all `round.

I wish I had this man's skill and was a better writer.

What I should most enjoy, only brings me down.

But, with these thoughts – myself almost despising,

I happen to think of you. Then my mood will

Sing hymns to heaven, like the lark rising

At break of day from lowly earth.

For remembering your sweet love such wealth brings

That I’d hate to change my place with kings.

116

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-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height 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.

116 Paraphrased

I refuse to admit there are obstacles

To the marriage of true minds. Love is not love

If it changes when conditions change,

Or breaks when meddlers meddle:

Oh no! It is the North Star

That looks on storms but it never shaken;

It is the hope of sailors near and far,

It’s value’s untold, although its altitude’s measured.

Love is not the toy of Time, though rosy lips and cheeks

Will come within range of his knife.

Love does not alter with hours and weeks,

But endures instead to the end of life.

If I am wrong and it can be proved

Then I have never written, and no man has ever loved.

130

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.

130 Paraphrased

My girlfriend’s eyes are nothing like the sun;

Coral is far more red than her lips' red:

If snow is white, why then her breasts have none;

If hairs are wires, black wires grow on her head.

I have seen roses streaked red and white,

But no such roses I see in her cheeks;

And in some perfumes is there more delight

Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I know although I love to hear her talk

That music has a far more pleasing sound:

I admit I never saw a goddess walk,

when My mistress, she plods upon the ground:

And yet by heaven, I think my love so rare,

And those who are false cannot compare.