William Shakespeare
1564-1616
Sonnet LIII
What is your
substance, whereof are you made,
That millions of strange
shadows on you tend?
Since every one, hath
every one, one shade,
And you but one, can
every shadow lend.
Describe Adonis, and
the counterfeit
Is poorly imitated
after you;
On Helen's cheek all
art of beauty set,
And you in Grecian
tires are painted new:
Speak of the spring,
and foison of the year,
The one doth shadow
of your beauty show,
The other as your
bounty doth appear;
And you in every blessed
shape we know.
In all external grace you have some part,
But you like none, none you, for constant heart.
|