Monday, September 17, 2018

Poem a Day XI

Having Difficulty Reading Shakespeare's Sonnet 91
Because I Am Thinking of Her


Thy love is better than high birth to me,
a love that overshines all human skill;
I love you more than misers love their wealth,
and more than barons love their finery.

        some I have known
        in one general best I have been
        all men's pride blown
        not my measure, not my own

But these particulars are not my measure;
my love is not so frail as lesser things,
my song is not as lesser men have sung,
my vault is built to house a finer treasure.

        some make hawk and horse their wealth
        others it in skill will find,
        but I, with stealthier design
        joy above the rest
        that to me and to my mind
        is richer than the best

And having thee, of all men's pride I boast,
for I have humbled pride that you might shine
and pride was never match for truest love
in which alone can pride find best and most.

        take all this away
        wherein I mine
        wealth for but a day
        I'll still have you as mine
        indeed thou mayst boast
        in glory prouder than most
        and wretched are those without
        that glory that is mine

As pride before my love its crown must hide,
in love alone I will then find my pride.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Please understand that this weblog runs on a third-party comment system, not on Blogger's comment system. If you have come by way of a mobile device and can see this message, you may have landed on the Blogger comment page, or the third party commenting system has not yet completely loaded; your comments will only be shown on this page and not on the page most people will see, and it is much more likely that your comment will be missed.