Poem of the Week

Sonnet 8

Sonnet 8
William Shakespeare

Why lov’st thou that which thou receiv’st not gladly,
Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly?
Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy.
Or else receiv’st with pleasure thine annoy?
If the true concord of well-tuned sounds,
By unions married, do offend thine ear,
They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear.
Mark how one string, sweet husband to another,
Strikes each in each by mutual ordering,
Resembling sire and child and happy mother,
Who all in one, one pleasing note do sing;  
Whose speechless song, being many, seeming one,  
Sings this to thee:
“Thou single wilt prove none.”

Poem of the Week

Sonnet 80

By William Shakespeare

O! how I faint when I of you do write,

Knowing a better spirit doth use your name,

And in the praise thereof spends all his might,

To make me tongue-tied, speaking of your fame.

But since your worth (wide as the ocean is)

The humble as the proudest sail doth bear,

My saucy bark (inferior far to his)

On your broad main doth wilfully appear.

Your shallowest help will hold me up afloat,

Whilst he upon your soundless deep doth ride;

Or (being wreck’d) I am a worthless boat,

He of tall building, and of goodly pride:

Then if he thrive and I be cast away,

The worst was this; my love was my decay.