Sonnet 121: Tis Better To Be Vile Than Vile Esteemed
William Shakespeare
’Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed When not to be receives reproach of being, And the just pleasure lost, which is so deemed Not by our feeling, but by others’ seeing. For why should others’ false adulterate eyes Give salutation to my sportive blood? Or on my frailties why are frailer spies, Which in their wills count bad what I think good? No, I am that I am, and they that level At my abuses reckon up their own. I may be straight though they themselves be bevel. By their rank thoughts, my deeds must not be shown, Unless this general evil they maintain: All men are bad, and in their badness reign.
Next 10 Poems
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 122: Thy Gift, Thy Tables, Are Within My Brain
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 123: No, Time, Thou Shalt Not Boast That I Do Change
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 124: If My Dear Love Were But The Child Of State
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 125: Were't Aught To Me I Bore The Canopy
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 126: O Thou, My Lovely Boy, Who In Thy Power
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 127: In The Old Age Black Was Not Counted Fair
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 128: How Oft, When Thou, My Music, Music Play'st
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 129: Th' Expense Of Spirit In A Waste Of Shame
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 13: O, That You Were Your Self! But, Love, You Are
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 130: My Mistress' Eyes Are Nothing Like The Sun
Previous 10 Poems
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 120: That You Were Once Unkind Befriends Me Now
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 12: When I Do Count The Clock That Tells The Time
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 119: What Potions Have I Drunk Of Siren Tears
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 118: Like As To Make Our Appetite More Keen
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 117: Accuse Me Thus: That I Have Scanted All
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 116: Let Me Not To The Marriage Of True Minds
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 115: Those Lines That I Before Have Writ Do Lie
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 114: Or Whether Doth My Mind, Being Crowned With You
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 113: Since I Left You, Mine Eye Is In My Mind
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 112: Your Love And Pity Doth Th' Impression Fill