William Shakespeare
Warwickshire
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Sonnet Cxiv

Rating: 3.1
Or whether doth my mind, being crown'd with you,
Drink up the monarch's plague, this flattery?
Or whether shall I say, mine eye saith true,
And that your love taught it this alchemy,
To make of monsters and things indigest
Such cherubins as your sweet self resemble,
Creating every bad a perfect best,
As fast as objects to his beams assemble?
O,'tis the first; 'tis flattery in my seeing,
And my great mind most kingly drinks it up:
Mine eye well knows what with his gust is 'greeing,
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COMMENTS
Fabrizio Frosini 06 January 2016
This sonnet, taking up again the ideas of the previous one, hinges on a quasi-philosophical conundrum as to which of the two, the eye or the mind, are guilty of the greatest sin, the mind in being deceived by flattery, or the eye in transforming all base images by a sort of arcane alchemy into images of the youth. Why either of these should be regarded as sinful is not clearly stated, unless it is harking back once again to the possibility of idolatry and idolatrous loving, first raised in Sonnet 105 and made the subject of various speculations thereafter.
15 0 Reply
Brian Jani 26 April 2014
Awesome I like this poem, check mine out
1 1 Reply
* Sunprincess * 08 January 2014
.......a beautiful love poem....
1 1 Reply

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