| |
That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect,
For slander's mark was ever yet the fair;
The ornament of beauty is suspect,
A crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air.
So thou be good, slander doth but approve
Thy worth the greater, being woo'd of time;
For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love,
And thou present'st a pure unstained prime.
Thou hast pass'd by the ambush of young days,
Either not assail'd or victor being charged;
Yet this thy praise cannot be so thy praise,
To tie up envy evermore enlarged:
If some suspect of ill mask'd not thy show,
Then thou alone kingdoms of hearts shouldst owe.
William Shakespeare
Read poems about / on: beauty, heaven, alone, time, sonnet
|
|
User Rating: |
|
1.0
/10
(1 votes) |
|
|
|
William Shakespeare
Free
Poetry E-Book:
E-mail this poem to e friend