Sonnet Cxli
William Shakespeare
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 hearts slave and vassal wretch to be: Only my plague thus far I count my gain, That she that makes me sin awards me pain.
Next 10 Poems
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet Cxlii
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet Cxliii
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet Cxliv
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet Cxlix
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet Cxlv
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet Cxlvi
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet Cxlvii
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet Cxlviii
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet Cxv
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet Cxvi
Previous 10 Poems
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet Cxl
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet Cxix
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet Cxiv
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet Cxiii
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet Cxii
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet Cxi
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet Cx
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet Cviii
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet Cvii
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet Cvi