Shake-speares Sonnets, Never before Imprinted/Sonnet 66
For other versions of this work, see Sonnet 66 (Shakespeare).
66
Tyr'd with all these for restfull death I cry.
As to behold desert a begger borne,
And needie Nothing trimd in iollitie,
And purest faith vnhappily forsworne,
And gilded honor shamefully misplast,
And maiden vertue rudely strumpeted,
And right perfection wrongfully disgrac'd,
And strength by limping sway disabled,
And arte made tung-tide by authoritie,
And Folly (Doctor-like) controuling skill,
And simple-Truth miscalde Simplicitie,
And captiue-good attending Captaine ill.
Tyr'd with all these, from these would I be gone;
Saue that to dye, I leaue my loue alone.
Tyr'd with all these for restfull death I cry.
As to behold desert a begger borne,
And needie Nothing trimd in iollitie,
And purest faith vnhappily forsworne,
And gilded honor shamefully misplast,
And maiden vertue rudely strumpeted,
And right perfection wrongfully disgrac'd,
And strength by limping sway disabled,
And arte made tung-tide by authoritie,
And Folly (Doctor-like) controuling skill,
And simple-Truth miscalde Simplicitie,
And captiue-good attending Captaine ill.
Tyr'd with all these, from these would I be gone;
Saue that to dye, I leaue my loue alone.