Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain
Full character'd with lasting memory,
Which shall above that idle rank remain
Beyond all date, even to eternity;
Or at the least, so long as brain and heart
Have faculty by nature to subsist;
Till each to razed oblivion yield his part
Of thee, thy record never can be miss'd.
That poor retention could not so much hold,
Nor need I tallies thy dear love to score;
Therefore to give them from me was I bold,
To trust those tables that receive thee more:
To keep an adjunct to remember thee
Were to import forgetfulness in me.
More verses by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 70: That Thou Art Blamed Shall Not Be Thy Defect
- Sonnet 26: Lord Of My Love, To Whom In Vassalage…
- Sonnet Cx
- Sonnet 32: If Thou Survive My Well-Contented Day
- Sonnet 38: How Can My Muse Want Subject To Invent