Monday, April 6, 2009


Sonnet 117

Accuse me thus: that i have scanted all

Wherein i should your great deserts repay,

Forgot upon your dearest love to call,

Whereto all bonds do tie me day by day;

That i have frequent been with unknown minds,

And giv'n to time your own dear purchased right;

That i have hoisted sail to all the winds

Which should transport me farthest from your sight.

Book both within the level of your frown,

But shoot not at me in your wakened hate,

Since my appeal says i did strive to prove

The constancy and virtue of your love.

~Shake Speare~

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