Shakespeare’s Sonnets, Sonnet CIII
Shakespeare’s Sonnets, Sonnet CIII
William Shakespeare
Alack! what poverty my Muse brings forth,
That having such a scope to show her pride,
The argument, all bare, is of more worth
Than when it hath my added praise beside!
O! blame me not, if I no more can write!
Look in your glass, and there appears a face
That over-goes my blunt invention quite,
Dulling my lines, and doing me disgrace.
Were it not sinful then, striving to mend,
To mar the subject that before was well?
For to no other pass my verses tend
Than of your graces and your gifts to tell;
And more, much more, than in my verse can sit,
Your own glass shows you when you look in it.
Verse breaks and indentation are preserved. Wrapped lines have a hanging indent. Width adapts to your screen.
Complete sonnet text. Source edition: Project Gutenberg #1041.
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