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Sonnet 138: When My Love Swears That She Is Made Of Truth - Poem by William Shakespeare

When my love swears that she is made of truth
I do believe her, though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutored youth,
Unlearnèd in the world's false subtleties.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue;
On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed.
But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
O, love's best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love, loves not to have years told.
Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we flattered be.

Comments about Sonnet 138: When My Love Swears That She Is Made Of Truth by William Shakespeare

  • harleen 11/1/2019 6:37:00 AM

    this poem is very beautifully written. Reply

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Abdulrauf Muhammad 4/27/2019 7:02:00 PM

    your poem is really meaningful and creative, and I like it.
    can you please read and rate my poem " farewell lovely mom" .
    thank you

    Oskar (10/8/2019 12:39:00 PM)

    You do realize shakespeare has been dead for almost 400 years...

    3 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • cute goy 6/10/2018 4:47:00 AM

    its awesome for my girlfriend Reply

    4 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • * Sunprincess * 6/8/2014 7:59:00 AM

    ~ When my love swears that she is made of truth
    I do believe her, though I know she lies, ~
    .............he does believe love....even though he knows she lies...
    .........this means he is a believer in love....great write..

    9 person liked.
    3 person did not like.
  • Brian Jani 4/26/2014 5:53:00 AM

    Awesome I like this poem, check mine out Reply

    4 person liked.
    19 person did not like.
  • James Mclain 6/8/2013 6:44:00 PM

    I cannot lie but live to tell the truth.
    Flattered by the lips that never spoke.
    Eleven lines are left two split in half......iip

    6 person liked.
    4 person did not like.
  • Ramesh Rai 6/8/2013 9:56:00 AM

    And wherefore say not I that I am
    O, love's best habit is in seeming
    And age in love, loves not to have
    years told.
    Therefore I lie with her, and she with
    And in our faults by lies we flattered

    2 person liked.
    3 person did not like.
  • Luke Agada 6/8/2013 6:12:00 AM

    One very important thing in a love relationship is trust and understanding.This tightens the bound of love.As it has always been, Love is also about believing the best of others. Reply

    2 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • Stephen Loomes 6/8/2013 5:48:00 AM


    When my love swears that she is made of truth,

    I believe her, though I know she lies,

    So that she might think of me as some untutored youth,

    Unknowing of the world's false subtleties;

    And so vainly thinking of me as young,

    Although she knows my days are past the best,

    Simply I accept her false speaking tongue,

    And on both sides this is simple truth suppressed.

    But why won't she admit she is unjust?

    And why don't I admit that I am old?

    Because Love's best habit is in seeming to trust,

    And people in love,

    Don't seek to be reminded of their age;

    Therefore, I lie with her, and she with me,

    And in our faults, by these lies,

    We have our flattery.

    1 person liked.
    4 person did not like.
  • David Wood 6/8/2013 4:34:00 AM

    A beautiful sonnet that captures all what a sonnet should be. Reply

    4 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
Read all 28 comments »
Truth Poems
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    William Shakespeare
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  3. 3. A Legend Of Truth
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  14. 14. Search For Truth
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  16. 16. Dark Truth
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Truth Poems

  1. All Is Truth

    O ME, man of slack faith so long! Standing aloof--denying portions so long; Only aware to-day of compact, all-diffused truth; Discovering to-day there is no lie, or form of lie, and can be none, but grows as inevitably upon itself as the truth does upon itself, Or as any law of the earth, or any natural production of the earth does. (This is curious, and may not be realized immediately--But it must be realized; I feel in myself that I represent falsehoods equally with the rest, And that the universe does.) Where has fail'd a perfect return, indifferent of lies or the truth? Is it upon the ground, or in water or fire? or in the spirit of man? or in the meat and blood? 10 Meditating among liars, and retreating sternly into myself, I see that there are really no liars or lies after all, And that nothing fails its perfect return--And that what are called lies are perfect returns, And that each thing exactly represents itself, and what has preceded it, And that the truth includes all, and is compact, just as much as space is compact, And that there is no flaw or vacuum in the amount of the truth--but that all is truth without exception; And henceforth I will go celebrate anything I see or am, And sing and laugh, and deny nothing.

  2. Tell All The Truth

    Tell all the truth but tell it slant, Success in circuit lies, Too bright for our infirm delight The truth's superb surprise; As lightning to the children eased With explanation kind, The truth must dazzle gradually Or every man be blind.

  3. A Legend Of Truth

    Once on a time, the ancient legends tell, Truth, rising from the bottom of her well, Looked on the world, but, hearing how it lied, Returned to her seclusion horrified. There she abode, so conscious of her worth, Not even Pilate's Question called her forth, Nor Galileo, kneeling to deny The Laws that hold our Planet 'neath the sky. Meantime, her kindlier sister, whom men call Fiction, did all her work and more than all, With so much zeal, devotion, tact, and care, That no one noticed Truth was otherwhere. Then came a War when, bombed and gassed and mined, Truth rose once more, perforce, to meet mankind, And through the dust and glare and wreck of things, Beheld a phantom on unbalanced wings, Reeling and groping, dazed, dishevelled, dumb, But semaphoring direr deeds to come. Truth hailed and bade her stand; the quavering shade Clung to her knees and babbled, "Sister, aid! I am--I was--thy Deputy, and men Besought me for my useful tongue or pen To gloss their gentle deeds, and I complied, And they, and thy demands, were satisfied. But this--" she pointed o'er the blistered plain, Where men as Gods and devils wrought amain-- "This is beyond me! Take thy work again." Tablets and pen transferred, she fled afar, And Truth assumed the record of the War... She saw, she heard, she read, she tried to tell Facts beyond precedent and parallel-- Unfit to hint or breathe, much less to write, But happening every minute, day and night. She called for proof. It came. The dossiers grew. She marked them, first, "Return. This can't be true." Then, underneath the cold official word: "This is not really half of what occurred." She faced herself at last, the story runs, And telegraphed her sister: "Come at once. Facts out of hand. Unable overtake Without your aid. Come back for Truth's own sake! Co-equal rank and powers if you agree. They need us both, but you far more than me!"

  4. This Side Of The Truth

    (for Llewelyn) This side of the truth, You may not see, my son, King of your blue eyes In the blinding country of youth, That all is undone, Under the unminding skies, Of innocence and guilt Before you move to make One gesture of the heart or head, Is gathered and spilt Into the winding dark Like the dust of the dead. Good and bad, two ways Of moving about your death By the grinding sea, King of your heart in the blind days, Blow away like breath, Go crying through you and me And the souls of all men Into the innocent Dark, and the guilty dark, and good Death, and bad death, and then In the last element Fly like the stars' blood Like the sun's tears, Like the moon's seed, rubbish And fire, the flying rant Of the sky, king of your six years. And the wicked wish, Down the beginning of plants And animals and birds, Water and Light, the earth and sky, Is cast before you move, And all your deeds and words, Each truth, each lie, Die in unjudging love.