Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate,
Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving,
O, but with mine, compare thou thine own state,
And thou shalt find it merits not reproving,
Or if it do, not from those lips of thine
That have profaned their scarlet ornaments
And sealed false bonds of love as oft as mine,
Robbed others' beds' revenues of their rents.
Be it lawful I love thee as thou lov'st those
Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee.
Root pity in thy heart, that when it grows
Thy pity may deserve to pitied be.
If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide,
By self-example mayst thou be denied!
More verses by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 113: Since I Left You, Mine Eye Is In My Mind
- Sonnet 10: For Shame, Deny That Thou Bear'st Love To Any
- Sonnet 110: Alas, 'Tis True, I Have Gone Here And There
- Sonnet 12: When I Do Count The Clock That Tells The Time
- Sonnet 101: O Truant Muse, What Shall Be Thy Amends