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  • The Dark Lady Sonnets 127–154

    Image: Shake-speares Sonnets Hank Whittemore’s Shakespeare Blog

    Shakespeare Sonnet 127 “In the old age black was not counted fair”

    Sonnet 127 “In the old age black was not counted fair” begins the “Dark Lady” series of the Shakespeare sonnets—the third thematic grouping.  The speaker begins by railing against artificial beauty.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 127 “In the old age black was not counted fair”

    Scholars and critics have created three thematic categories of the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence: 

    The Marriage Sonnets: 1-17
    The Fair Youth Sonnets: 18-126
    The Dark Lady Sonnets: 127-154

    While the “Marriage Sonnets” deserve their label, as the speaker contrives to persuade a young handsome man to marry and produce beautiful offspring, the “Fair Youth Sonnets” remain problematic because there is no actual imagery of a “fair youth” or a “young man” in the poems.  Sonnets 18-126, the bulk of the 154, actually reflect the speaker’s spiritual exploration and examination of his dedication to his creativity and writing talent.

    The “dark lady” sonnet sequence begins with sonnet 127 and continues through to the final sonnet 154.  These sonnets, while clearly containing imagery of an actual dark-haired, dark-skinned woman, may also be read as “dark mood” sonnets.

    Sonnet 127 “In the old age black was not counted fair”

    In the old age black was not counted fair
    Or if it were, it bore not beauty’s name;
    But now is black beauty’s successive heir,
    And beauty slander’d with a bastard’s shame:
    For since each hand hath put on Nature’s power,
    Fairing the foul with Art’s false borrow’d face,
    Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower,
    But is profan’d, if not lives in disgrace.
    Therefore my mistress’ brows are raven black,
    Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem
    At such who, not born fair, no beauty lack,
    Sland’ring creation with a false esteem:
    Yet so they mourn, becoming of their woe,
    That every tongue says beauty should look so.

    Original Text

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    Commentary on Sonnet 127 “In the old age black was not counted fair”

    The speaker begins his musings on his relationship with a woman, whom he will come to disdain, as he examines his own motives and urges.  In fact, these poems remain the dark lot of the bunch of sonnets, and likely the designation “dark” refers to moods, attitudes, and personalities rather than skin tone.

    First Quatrain: Standards in the Idealization of Women

    In the old age black was not counted fair
    Or if it were, it bore not beauty’s name;
    But now is black beauty’s successive heir,
    And beauty slander’d with a bastard’s shame:

    The speaker begins sonnet 127 by claiming that in earlier times “black” was not appreciated as “fair.”  The statement presents a paradox because “black” as a color is not fair or light; it is dark, and it would have been dark even “in the old age” or earlier times.  

    But upon reflection and awareness that the term “fair” also means pleasant, attractive, honest, or favorable, the reader understands that the speaker is referring to one or all of those qualities.

    The speaker refers to the notion that light-skinned, blonde women were held in higher esteem than dark-skinned, raven-haired women.  This fact, of course, simply reflects the part of the world where the speaker resides—in a zone where less sun would encourage less melanin production in human skin and hair.

    The object of Petrarchan sonnets “Laura” is described as fair-haired—”The hair’s bright tresses, full of golden glows” in Petrarch sonnet VII— and some of the “dark lady” sonnets protest against the idealization of women found in these and earlier highly romanticized poems.  

    The speaker thus asserts that although black used to be denigrated, now it is “beauty’s successive heir.”  But also “beauty [is] slandered with a bastard’s shame,” when cosmetics are employed to enhance any natural beauty.   

    Second Quatrain: True Beauty Must Come in an Honest Package

    For since each hand hath put on Nature’s power,
    Fairing the foul with Art’s false borrow’d face,
    Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower,
    But is profan’d, if not lives in disgrace.

    The standard for “beauty” seems to have lost its naturalness, likely because of the use of wigs and hair dye, rouges, lipsticks, and mascara.  A woman using these cosmetics can change her true hair color, and that falseness makes a “bastard” of true beauty, leaving it degraded because of its lack of honesty.

    The speaker has shown repeatedly in his earlier sonnet sequence that he is dedicated to truth.  Thus it will come as no surprise that he will rail again dishonest beauty tricks.     He decries anything artificial, as the reader has encountered in those earlier sonnets, particularly the “Muse Sonnets” 18-126; thus he now wishes to advocate for what is natural and demand that beauty be based on reality not cosmetics.

    Third Quatrain:  Fake Cannot Reflect Beauty

    Therefore my mistress’ brows are raven black,
    Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem
    At such who, not born fair, no beauty lack,
    Sland’ring creation with a false esteem:

    The speaker then introduces his lady friend as a raven-haired beauty with dark eyes, and insists that her naturalness is dark, and yet she does not lack beauty. Her beauty represents honesty.   Her beauty demolishes that notion that the fake blonde is more beautiful than the natural brunette.  

    The speaker believes that nature is slandered when attempts are made to crush naturalness into a false concept of beauty.  He disdains such actions and will condemn them at every opportunity.

    The Couplet:  Natural and Untouched Beauty

    Yet so they mourn, becoming of their woe,
    That every tongue says beauty should look so.

    The dark-haired, dark-skinned beauties do not mourn to be light-haired and light-skinned because they are able to demonstrate true, natural beauty that makes people realize that all beauty should be natural and untouched.  The speaker then asserts that natural beauty is the standard and everybody knows it.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 128  “How oft when thou, my music, music play’st”

    Sonnet 128 “How oft when thou, my music, music play’st” is purely for fun; the speaker plies his clever creativity as he dramatizes his feigned jealousy of the keyboard on which his lady is playing music for him.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 128 “How oft when thou, my music, music play’st”

    In sonnet 128 “How oft when thou, my music, music play’st,” the speaker creates a little drama, featuring his beloved lady friend playing a harpsichord.  As he watches, he feigns jealousy of the keys across which the mistress’ fingers press and glide as she performs her music.

    Sonnet 128 “How oft when thou, my music, music play’st”

    How oft when thou, my music, music play’st
    Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
    With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway’st
    The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,
    Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap
    To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,
    Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,
    At the wood’s boldness by thee blushing stand!
    To be so tickl’d, they would change their state
    And situation with those dancing chips,
    O’er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,
    Making dead wood more bless’d than living lips.
    Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,
    Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 128 “How oft when thou, my music, music play’st”

    The likability of this speaker takes a serious hit in this “Dark Lady” category of sonnets.  He panders, placates, and demeans himself as he unveils his dramatic—and likely adulterous— relationship with this woman.

    First Quatrain:   Watching the Woman Play a Harpsichord

    How oft when thou, my music, music play’st
    Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
    With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway’st
    The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,

    The speaker claims that it is quite often that when he hears and watches the woman play music for him, he notices how her “sweet fingers” move and how she “gently sway[s].”  The first quatrain does not complete his statement, but it nevertheless supplies the details that the lady is playing “upon that blessed wood,” and that her music results in “concord that [the speaker’s] ear confounds.” 

    The speaker sets up the claim with just enough detail to allow his reader/listener to observe only a snippet of the event.  By beginning his sentence, “How oft when thou, my music, music play’st,” the speaker creates ambiguity:  this construction could be a question or it could an exclamation.

    Second Quatrain:  A Joyful Exclamation!

    Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap
    To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,
    Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,
    At the wood’s boldness by thee blushing stand!

    The second quatrain completes the thought begun in the first quatrain, and the reader/listener learns that the statement is indeed an exclamation:  “how oft . . . do I envy!”  The speaker is, in fact, dramatizing his envy of the wooden keys of the instrument, probably a harpsichord, upon which his lady friend is playing.  

    He claims that he envies “those jacks” because they “nimble leap / To kiss the tender inward of [her] hand.”  While he stands helpless, imagining that his lips should be enjoying that opportunity, instead of the pieces of inert wood.

    Third Quatrain:  A Strange and Comical Exchange

    To be so tickl’d, they would change their state
    And situation with those dancing chips,
    O’er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,
    Making dead wood more bless’d than living lips.

    Comically, the speaker then fashions the image of his lips trading  places with the keys on the keyboard.  Her fingers are gently gliding over those keys, and he would prefer to have her fingers be playing over his lips.  He offers the melodramatic notion that her fingers moving over those “dancing chips” or keys is giving blessings to “dead wood” that he would assign only to “living lips.”

    The Couplet:  Clever Conclusion

    Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,
    Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.

    The speaker then offers the clever conclusion that is it fine for those “saucy jacks” to be “so happy” that his lady is moving her fingers over them, and thus the speaker will accept their happiness, and he tells his lady directly that she can give her fingers to the keyboard, but she should give the speaker her ” lips to kiss.”

    A Jolting Experience

    Moving from the “Muse Sonnet” sequence to the “Dark Lady” sequence affords a rather jarring and jolting experience.  The meditation/rumination of the “Muse Sonnets” creates a tranquility verging on divine peace that becomes so comforting in their masterful execution.

    Going from such a nearly divine state of peace to the drama of a lustful relationship with a tawdry woman leads the reader to feel cheated, debased, and haunted.  But the cleverness and the craftsmanship of the set of sonnets make their study important and necessary.  

    After all, the speaker is simply a man who despite his heavenly, God-given talent for creating dramatic literary works retains all of the vices as well as the virtues of being human.  Thus his audience must applaud where applause is warranted. 

    Shakespeare Sonnet 129 “Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame”

    Sonnet 129 “Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame” from “The Dark Lady” sequence dramatizes the evils of promiscuity, wherein sexual gratification engaged in solely out of lust results in all manner of trials and tribulations. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 129 “The expense of spirit in a waste of shame”

    The speaker in Sonnet 129 “Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence is dramatizing the pit of promiscuity, where copulation engaged in solely out of lust engenders all manner of evil consequences.  Exploring the nature of lust, he finds that urge to promote a deceptive behavior that promises “heaven” but delivers “hell.”

    Sonnet 129:  “Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame”

    Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame
    Is lust in action; and till action, lust
    Is perjur’d, murderous, bloody, full of blame,
    Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust;
    Enjoy’d no sooner but despised straight;
    Past reason hunted; and no sooner had,
    Past reason hated, as a swallow’d bait,
    On purpose laid to make the taker mad:
    Mad in pursuit, and in possession so;
    Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme;
    A bliss in proof,—and prov’d, a very woe;
    Before, a joy propos’d; behind, a dream.
    All this the world well knows; yet none knows well
    To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.

    Original Text

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    Commentary on Sonnet 129 “Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame”

    Sonnet 129 is dramatizing the degradation caused by promiscuity. The speaker reveals that all manner of evil consequences result after copulation is engaged in solely out of lust.

    First Quatrain:  The Evil Nature of Lust

    Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame
    Is lust in action; and till action, lust
    Is perjur’d, murderous, bloody, full of blame,
    Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust;

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 129, the speaker describes the nature of “lust” as “perjur’d, murderous, bloody, full of blame, / Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust.”  Jesus the Christ described Satan as 

    a murderer from the beginning, and abode not in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own: for he is a liar, and the father of it. (KJV John 8:44).

    The speaker in sonnet 129 thus echoes the Christ’s description likening “lust” to the devil, or Satan, who tempts human beings, promising happiness but delivering misery and loss.  

    Worse even than “lust” itself, however, is “lust in action,” or the sex act, which results in “Post coitum triste omni est”—”After coitus, everyone experiences gloom.”  (My translation from the Latin.)

    Second Quatrain:  Lust, the Lower Nature

    Enjoy’d no sooner but despised straight;
    Past reason hunted; and no sooner had,
    Past reason hated, as a swallow’d bait,
    On purpose laid to make the taker mad:

    The speaker then continues his indictment of lust and its concomitant action.  No sooner is the act consummated than it is “despised” immediately.  Lust rushes the human mind “past reason,” causing the aroused individual to hate what he actually knows, that as soon as he lets down his guard, he will be made “mad.”    By allowing his body to dictate to his mind what he knows intuitively, the person giving in to lust will become “as a swallow’d bait.” 

    The sex urge is a strong one, implanted in the body to ensure continuation of the human species, but after the human being allows himself to engage in that act without the purpose of procreation, he is subjugating his will to the whims of his lower nature that he is supposed to control.   The human mind knows through intuition that sex for sex’s sake is an abomination to the soul.  Wasting the life energy for sexual gratification alone is tantamount to torturing the soul.

    Third Quatrain:  Possessed by a Devil

    Mad in pursuit, and in possession so;
    Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme;
    A bliss in proof,—and prov’d, a very woe;
    Before, a joy propos’d; behind, a dream.

    The sex urge when allowed to arouse the body to action causes the individual to become “mad in pursuit” of gratification; he behaves as if possessed by a devil.  The body craving sexual congress moves in a frenzied orgy:  “Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme / A bliss in proof,—and prov’d, a very woe.” 

    The excessive desire that drives the frenzy always results in “a very woe.”  What seemed to promise “bliss,” in actuality, discharges only sorrow and remorse.  Before engaging in the promiscuous act, the one in the throes of sexual desire feels convinced that that desire is “a joy propos’d,” but after its completion, the dejected one realizes that that promise was nothing but “a dream.” 

    The Couplet:  Knowing Evil, but Failing to Avoid It

    All this the world well knows; yet none knows well
    To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.

    The speaker is clearly asserting that the human mind is fully able to understand that the sex urge must be eschewed, except for procreation.    He, therefore, insists that the whole world is aware of this fact, yet ironically, the human condition continues to replay itself, and in spite of possessing this sacred knowledge that leads to right behavior, human beings often fall pray to the erroneous promise of “the heaven that leads men to this hell.”  

    Instead of following  the advice from the soul and from great spiritual leaders and from great philosophical thinkers who have offered warnings against this depraved act, the weak individual allows him/herself to be lured into this depravity repeatedly.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 130 “My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun”

    The speaker in sonnet 130 “My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun” is playing against the Petrarchan tradition of placing the lady friend upon a pedestal to demonstrate affection. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 130 “My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun”

    The Petrarchan tradition of writing poems to women included exaggeration in order to praise her features; for example the Petrarchan line “Those eyes, the sun’s pure golden citadel” from Petrarchan sonnet LIV is obviously the one that inspires the Shakespeare line “My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun.”

    The speaker in Shakespeare sonnet 130 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence shows that he will not be comparing his love’s feature to natural things and saying she outshines them.

    This speaker, instead, will be saying quite straightforwardly that even though his lover does not always compare well with the beauties that appear in nature, he loves her just the same.  He is attempting to establish and maintain her humanity above all.

    Sonnet 130 “My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun”

    My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun
    Coral is far more red than her lips’ red:
    If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
    If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
    I have seen roses damask’d, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
    And in some perfumes is there more delight
    Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
    I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
    That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
    I grant I never saw a goddess go,—
    My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
    And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
    As any she belied with false compare.

    Original Text

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    Commentary on Sonnet 130 “My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun”

    The speaker in Sonnet 130 is playing against the Petrarchan tradition of placing the lady friend upon a pedestal to demonstrate affection.  

    First Quatrain:  Her Features are Not Like Sun, Coral, Snow, or Silk

    My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun
    Coral is far more red than her lips’ red:
    If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
    If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

    The speaker begins by describing his lady friend’s eyes. They are not at all “like the sun.”  That is all he has to say about those orbs, even though much exaggeration in earlier poetry has taken place in describing the eyes of the beloved.  But this speaker quickly moves on to her lips, which are again described in the negative:  while those lips are red, they are not as red as “coral.”

    Moving on to the woman’s bustline, he finds her competing in the negative against “snow.”  While snow may actually be white, this lady’s breasts are a shade of brown, as most human skin comes in varying shades from light to dark brown.  The lady’s hair suffers the worst comparison.  

    Lovers like to attribute hair as strands of silk, but this speaker has to admit that her hair is just like “black wires,” and he offers the humorous image of black wires growing out off her scalp.

    Second Quatrain:  Her Cheeks Have no Roses, Her Breath not Like Perfume

    I have seen roses damask’d, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
    And in some perfumes is there more delight
    Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

    The speaker next focuses on his lady’s cheeks and breath.  Her cheeks are not like any rose he has experienced, especially the “red and white,” or damasked rose.  He has seen those kinds of roses, and he does not see them in her cheeks.

    The speaker has delighted in the smells of “some perfumes.”  He finds no such delightful perfume smell exhaling with the breath of his lover.  He employs the term “reek,” which  may likely be misconstrued by contemporary readers because the term “reek” in the Shakespearean era merely meant “to exhale” or “to exude.”  Currently, the term describes an odor that is decidedly unpleasant.

    Th speaker, however, does not claim that his mistress’ breath stinks; he is merely stating that her breath is not as sweet smelling as perfume.  Again, the speaker is merely stating honest, human facts about this woman for whom he maintains affection.  He is bucking the notion that exaggerating the beauty of a woman somehow offers her a tribute.  This speaker prefers truth over the fiction of hyperbole.

    Third Quatrain:  No Music in Her Voice and She Walks on the Ground

    I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
    That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
    I grant I never saw a goddess go,—
    My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:

    In the final quatrain, the speaker does what he has failed to do in the first and second quatrains.  He admits that he loves to hear his lady friend talk, but he also has to admit that even though he enjoys hearing her voice, he remains aware that her voice lacks the more “pleasing sound” of music.  Still, he seems to be making a more positive comparison than with the earlier natural phenomena he employed.  

    While she sun, coral, snow, silk, roses, and perfume all seemed to shine more brilliantly than the lady’s features, in her voice he has found something about which to state flat out that he “loves.”  Then again, he keeps his mistress treading on the earth, that is, she does not walk about as some “goddess” would do.   

    And even though he cannot attest that a goddess would walk any other way, he can say that his mistress “treads on the ground.”  And with that assertion, the speaker summarizes his notion of keeping his tribute to his lady down to earth, truthful in all aspects.

    The Couplet:  Truthful, Human Terms

    And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
    As any she belied with false compare.

    The couplet finds the speaker swearing that his love for his mistress is as “rare” as the love possessed by those who exaggerate their mistresses’ beauty.  He accuses those speakers of lying when they compare the beauty of their ladies to natural phenomena and claim that the lady’s features outshine the sun, or that she has lips redder than coral, or outrageously bright toned body parts.

    This speaker is convinced that such hyperbolic rhetoric in attempting to place the loved one a pedestal simply remains at odds with the true comparisons, and ultimately distracts from the focus on her true qualities.  

    He likely would have preferred to be addressing the positive features of the lady, but he found it necessary to refute the notion of hyperbole before addressing other, more important issues.

    The speaker is implying that he looks deeper for beauty.  His affection for his friend is based on her individuality as a human being. By describing his lady friend’s qualities in human terms, keeping his rhetoric down to earth, the speaker can still assert the rare quality of genuine affection that he feels for her.

    One of the Problem Sonnets

    Although this sonnet is grouped with the “Dark Lady” sequence, it seems to prove an anomaly because in many of the others in this group the lady does not merit such positive effusions as offered in the speaker’s claim that his “love” for her is rare.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 131 “Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art”

    Even as he defends her physical beauty, the beguiled speaker in sonnet 131 “Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art” introduces the notion of the ugly “deeds” of which the dark lady persona proves capable. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 131 “Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art”

    The speaker in sonnet 131 addresses the persona that is responsible for this group of sonnets (127-154) being labeled “the dark lady sonnets.”  Clearly, the speaker is addressing a person who has a “face” and a “neck,” unlike the supposed “young man sonnets” (18-126), which never offer any evidence of referring to a human being. 

    The speaker does seem to reveal that she is on the darker complexioned side of the spectrum, but also that she is quite a stunning beauty, whose swarthiness does not diminish her beauty.  He implies that she is as beautiful or perhaps more lovely than the standard fair-haired beauty that seems to be the popular yardstick for feminine beauty at that period of time.

    Sonnet 131 “Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art”

    Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art
    As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel;
    For well thou know’st to my dear doting heart
    Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.
    Yet, in good faith, some say that thee behold,
    Thy face hath not the power to make love groan:
    To say they err I dare not be so bold,
    Although I swear it to myself alone.
    And to be sure that is not false I swear,
    A thousand groans, but thinking on thy face,
    One on another’s neck, do witness bear
    Thy black is fairest in my judgment’s place.
    In nothing art thou black save in thy deeds,
    And thence this slander, as I think, proceeds.

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 131 “Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art”

    The “Dark Lady” sequence focuses on a woman as it continues to maintain an ambiguity as to whether the “dark” refers to her coloring—complexion, hair, eyes— or only to her behavior.

    First Quatrain:  Beautiful but Cruel

    Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art
    As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel;
    For well thou know’st to my dear doting heart
    Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.

    In the first quatrain, the speaker accuses the lady of tyrannical behavior that resembles that of those beautiful women who become cruel because of their beauty.  She thinks she has the upper hand in the relationship because she knows that he is captivated by her beauty and holds her in high regard. 

    The speaker admits that he has a “doting heart” and that to him she is “the fairest and most precious jewel.”  Such a position leaves him weak and vulnerable, making him accept her cruel behavior out of fear of losing her.  Because she is aware of his vulnerability, she is free to cause him pain with impunity.

    Second Quatrain:  Conflicted by Beauty

    Yet, in good faith, some say that thee behold,
    Thy face hath not the power to make love groan:
    To say they err I dare not be so bold,
    Although I swear it to myself alone.

    Even though the speaker has heard other people say that there is nothing special and particularly beautiful about this woman, he continues to think otherwise.  He has heard people say that she does not have “the power to make love groan.”  According to others, she is incapable of motivating the kind of reaction that other really beautiful woman may engender.

    And the speaker does not have the courage to argue with those who hold those negative opinions.  Yet even though he will not rebut those complaints to the faces of those who hold them, he “swear[s]” to himself that they are wrong and thus continues to hold his own view as the correct one.

    Third Quatrain: Intrigued by Coloring

    And to be sure that is not false I swear,
    A thousand groans, but thinking on thy face,
    One on another’s neck, do witness bear
    Thy black is fairest in my judgment’s place.

    To convince himself that he is right in thinking his lady a beauty, he insists that when thinking of “[her] face,” he may groan with love a thousand times.  He refers to her blackness as the “fairest in [his] judgment’s place.”  

    The speaker holds the dark features of the “dark lady” in highest regard, despite the prevailing standard of beauty reflected in the opinions of other people who criticize her negatively.  As he compares the complexion and hair of lighter skinned women to his “dark lady,” he finds that he remains more intrigued by her coloring.  

    The Couplet:  Beauty Is as Beauty Does

    In nothing art thou black save in thy deeds,
    And thence this slander, as I think, proceeds.

    The speaker then asserts that any negativity associated with blackness results only from the woman’s behavior. Her physical beauty does not contrast in the negative to blondes and other fair-haired women, but her callous and indifferent behavior renders her deserving to the “slander” she is receiving.  He  will not uphold the ugliness of her deeds, even though he is attracted to her natural, dark beauty.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 132 “Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me”

    In sonnet 132 “Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me,” the speaker dramatizes the dark lady’s “pretty ruth,” likening her “mourning” eyes to the sun in the morning and then in the evening.

    Introduction and Tex of Sonnet 132 “Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me”

    Addressing his dark lady, the speaker again focuses on her foul disposition, as he wishes for a better attitude from her.   He dramatizes her moods by comparing them to sunrise and sunset, and punning on the word “mourning.”  He wishes for “morning” but continues to receive “mourning” instead.

    Sonnet 132 “Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me”

    Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me
    Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain,
    Have put on black and loving mourners be,
    Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.
    And truly not the morning sun of heaven
    Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east,
    Nor that full star that ushers in the even,
    Doth half that glory to the sober west,
    As those two mourning eyes become thy face:
    O! let it then as well beseem thy heart
    To mourn for me, since mourning doth thee grace,
    And suit thy pity like in every part.
    Then will I swear beauty herself is black,
    And all they foul that thy complexion lack.

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 132 “Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me”

    The speaker employs a clever pun—mourning/morning—as he begins to reveal more clearly the dreary nature of this woman with whom he is unfortunately ensnared in an unhealthy relationship.

    First Quatrain:  The Eyes of Disdain

    Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me
    Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain,
    Have put on black and loving mourners be,
    Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.

    The speaker in the first quatrain of sonnet 132 asserts that he loves his lady’s eyes even as they look at him “with disdain.”  She wrongs him, and he suffers, but he then dramatizes his suffering by focusing on her eyes, which he claims “put on black and [become] loving mourners.”   Her eyes seem to mourn for his torment, yet they continue to gaze at him, or at his pain, with “pretty ruth.” 

    Second Quatrain:  Glorifying the Face

    And truly not the morning sun of heaven
    Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east,
    Nor that full star that ushers in the even,
    Doth half that glory to the sober west,

    The speaker then asserts that sunrise and sunset do not beautify the land so well as her “two mourning eyes” glorify her face.  The second quatrain is only part of the complete thought that continues in the third quatrain.  The thought straddles the two quatrains more for the purpose of form than for content.

    The speaker has likened the darkened landscape before sunrise to “grey cheeks,” which implies those dark cheeks of his mistress.  The sun that is “usher[ing] in” evening is a “full star,” but it offers less than “half the glory” that the lady’s eyes give to her face.

    Third Quatrain:  The Drama of Mourning

    As those two mourning eyes become thy face:
    O! let it then as well beseem thy heart
    To mourn for me, since mourning doth thee grace,
    And suit thy pity like in every part.

    The speaker labels his lady’s eyes, “those two mourning eyes,” dramatizing them with a pun on “mourning,” and then punning again in the line “since mourning doth thee grace.”  

    The pun implies the wish that the speaker projects:  he wishes this beautiful creature had the grace of “morning,” but instead she constantly delivers the characterization of “mourning.”  

    The woman’s eyes mourn for him not out of love but out of the pity she feels for him after she has caused his misery.  His humiliation is a cross that he has to bear in having a relationship with this woman.

    The Couplet:  Looking Past Pain

    Then will I swear beauty herself is black,
    And all they foul that thy complexion lack.

    In the couplet, the speaker again decides to accept the situation and even support the woman for her beauty.  Unfortunately, the idea, beauty is a beauty does, eludes this speaker, at least for now.  He will continue to look past the pain she causes him as long as he can enjoy her beauty.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 133 “Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan” 

    In sonnet 133 “Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan,” the speaker bemoans that the cruel lady has captured his heart and his alter ego, who creates his poems.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 133 “Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan”

    As the reader has experienced from sonnets 18 through 126, the speaker in sonnet 133 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence creates a persona of his soul in order to reflect upon and dramatize the activity of his talent and ambition.  

    In that section of the sonnets, the speaker variously addresses his muse, his poems, or himself—all of whom are the same entity, the only difference being the differing aspects of the same soul.  

    In this sonnet 133, the speaker is referring to his Muse-Talent-Soul as his friend, who is being affected by the dark lady’s behavior. This sonnet and the following sonnet 134 are often misinterpreted by claiming that the “he” in the poem refers to a young man who is friend of the speaker, and this friend has betrayed his speaker-friend by sleeping with his mistress the dark lady.

     For example, Helen Vendler begins her commentary on sonnet 133 by announcing:  “This sonnet of the lady’s infidelity with the speaker’s friend has driven Ingram and Redpath to a diagram and to a comparison with ‘Chines boxes’.”  

    Vendler continues with this inaccuracy in her commentary on sonnet 134:  “Sonnet 134 takes stock of the torment of the affair between the friend and the mistress announced in 133.”

    By failing to understand the actual topic of the “Muse Sonnets” as the speaker’s own soul and instead claiming that the target is a  “fair youth,” critics and scholars then continue that failure as they encounter the “Dark Lady” subsequence.

    Sonnet 133 “Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan”

    Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
    For that deep wound it gives my friend and me!
    Is ’t not enough to torture me alone,
    But slave to slavery my sweet’st friend must be?
    Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken,
    And my next self thou harder hast engross’d:
    Of him, myself, and thee, I am forsaken;
    A torment thrice threefold thus to be cross’d.
    Prison my heart in thy steel bosom’s ward,
    But then my friend’s heart let my poor heart bail;
    Whoe’er keeps me, let my heart be his guard;
    Thou canst not then use rigour in my jail:
    And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee,
    Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 133 “Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan”

    The speaker is bemoaning the fact that the cruel lady has not only captured his heart but also his alter ego, that is, his other self who creates his poems.

    First Quatrain:  Dark Lady vs the Muse

    Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
    For that deep wound it gives my friend and me!
    Is ’t not enough to torture me alone,
    But slave to slavery my sweet’st friend must be?

    The speaker brings down a curse on “that heart” of the dark lady, not only for making his heart “to groan,” but also for the “deep wound” she causes in both his “friend” and himself.  He queries, isn’t it enough that you torment me? must you also cause my muse, who is “my sweet’st friend” to suffer?

    The speaker is probably finding his musings invaded with thoughts of the mistress, and because of his intense infatuation with her, he feels his creations are suffering.   The complaint resembles the one wherein he would chide his muse for abandoning him, implying that he could not write without her, yet he continued to make poems about that very topic.

    Second Quatrain:  Triumvirate of Soul

    Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken,
    And my next self thou harder hast engross’d:
    Of him, myself, and thee, I am forsaken;
    A torment thrice threefold thus to be cross’d.

    The speaker then refers explicitly to the cruelty of the lady for affecting his muse/writing; he claims that she has taken him from himself, and also “my next self thou harder has engross’d.”  The self that is closest to him is that triumvirate of Muse-Talent-Soul, which constitutes his life, including his working life.

    When the lady disrupts the speaker’s tripartite entity, she causes him to be “forsaken” by everything and everyone:  “Of him, myself, and thee, I am forsaken.”  And he thus is “torment[ed] thrice threefold.” 

    Third Quatrain:  Begging to Keep His Own Muse

    Prison my heart in thy steel bosom’s ward,
    But then my friend’s heart let my poor heart bail;
    Whoe’er keeps me, let my heart be his guard;
    Thou canst not then use rigour in my jail:

    In the third quatrain, the speaker commands the lady to go ahead and lock him up in “[her] steel bosom’s ward,” but let him be able to extricate his muse from her clutches.  He wants to retain control over whatever his own heart “guard[s].”  He wants to keep his muse in his own “jail” so that she cannot “use rigour” in that jail.

    The Couplet: Confined and under a Spell

    And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee,
    Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.

    But the speaker contends that the lady will continue to imprison him, and because he deems that he belongs to her, all “that is in me,” including that triumvirate of Muse-Talent-Soul, also is confined in her jail and under her spell.


    Shakespeare Sonnet 134 “So, now I have confess’d that he is thine”

    The speaker in sonnet 134 “So, now I have confess’d that he is thine” descends into a vulgar discussion, lamenting the sexual attraction he suffers because of the lustful lady.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 134 “So, now I have confess’d that he is thine”

    In sonnet 134, the speaker again is addressing the dark lady, as he laments her power over his other self.  However, this “other self” is not the spiritual persona, not the muse, but very bluntly yet subtly and specifically, he is referring to his male member as “he.”  It is quite a common vulgar traditional part of coarse conversation, and both male and females engage in it, often even assigning nicknames to their private parts.

    Sonnet 134 “So, now I have confess’d that he is thine”

    So, now I have confess’d that he is thine
    And I myself am mortgag’d to thy will,
    Myself I ’ll forfeit, so that other mine
    Thou wilt restore, to be my comfort still:
    But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free,
    For thou art covetous and he is kind;
    He learn’d but surety-like to write for me,
    Under that bond that him as fast doth bind.
    The statute of thy beauty thou wilt take,
    Thou usurer, that putt’st forth all to use,
    And sue a friend came debtor for my sake;
    So him I lose through my unkind abuse.
    Him have I lost; thou hast both him and me:
    He pays the whole, and yet am I not free.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 134 “So, now I have confess’d that he is thine”

    The speaker in sonnet 134 “So, now I have confess’d that he is thine” descends into a vulgar discussion, lamenting the sexual attraction he suffers because of the lustful lady.

    First Quatrain:  Lower Nature

    So, now I have confess’d that he is thine
    And I myself am mortgag’d to thy will,
    Myself I ’ll forfeit, so that other mine
    Thou wilt restore, to be my comfort still:

    The speaker complained in sonnet 133 that the lady was imprisoning not only the speaker but also his alter ego, his soul-muse-talent.  The speaker’s identity is so closely bound with his writing that even he at times finds distinguishing them unappealing.  

    The diction of sonnet 134 however cleverly demonstrates that the speaker is referring to his lower nature or his sex drive; thus the “he” referred to here is his male organ.  He tells the lady that he has “confess’d that he is thine.”  But because the speaker cannot separate himself from this particular “he,” the speaker is also “mortgag’d to [the lady’s] will.”  

    The speaker’s sexual arousal causes his entire being to respond and bind itself to the lady.  The use of financial terms such as “mortgage” and “forfeit” imply and confirm that the speaker is complaining about physical acts instead of spiritual ones.

    The speaker says he will “forfeit” himself, his sensual self, so that he will have “restore[d]” to him his other self and his comfort.  He implies that giving in to the woman sexually will dilute the urge and he can become calm again.

    Second Quatrain:  Physical Pleasure

    But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free,
    For thou art covetous and he is kind;
    He learn’d but surety-like to write for me,
    Under that bond that him as fast doth bind.

    But then the speaker admits that engaging in physical pleasure with her will not free him from her clutches, because she is “covetous.”  He knows he will give in to her again.  His male member has “learn’d but surety-like to write for me, / Under that bond that him as fast doth bind.”  That male organ “write[s]” for or creates in the speaker the motivation that will urge them both to cling to the woman.

    Third Quatrain:  The Diction of Desire

    The statute of thy beauty thou wilt take,
    Thou usurer, that putt’st forth all to use,
    And sue a friend came debtor for my sake;
    So him I lose through my unkind abuse.

    The lady will continue to flaunt her beauty to keep the speaker and his male member desirous of her.  Again the speaker employs diction that indicates the material, worldly nature of his discourse:  “the statute” of her beauty, “thou usurer,” “sue a friend came debtor”—all employ legal and/or financial terms that clearly join the speaker’s conversation to worldly endeavors.

    The speaker then admits that he lost control over his base urges “through [his] unkind abuse,” that is, he allowed his attention to fall below the waist.  He allowed his attraction for the woman’s beauty to stir in him the desire to satisfy the drives that are meant for the sacred purpose of marriage consummation and reproduction, not mere entertainment.

    The Couplet: Lamenting Loss of Self-Control

    Him have I lost; thou hast both him and me:
    He pays the whole, and yet am I not free.

    The speaker then laments, “Him have I lost,” meaning that he has lost control over his male organ.  He tells the woman that she possesses both him and his copulatory organ, and while the latter “pays the whole,” punning on “hole,” he is certainly not free but is right there with that body part.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 135 “Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will”

    Sonnet 135 “Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will” and sonnet 136 “If thy soul check thee that I come so near” both focus intensely on punning the word “Will.”  The poet, Edward de Vere, uses the nickname “Will” from his pseudonym, William Shakespeare.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 135 “Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will”

    The word “will” here means primarily desire, and because the speaker is addressing the object of his intense sexual desire, he conflates his desire with his pseudonym nickname “Will” with “will” meaning desire into a clever pun.  

    Sonnet 135 “Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will”

    Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will
    And Will to boot, and Will in over-plus;
    More than enough am I that vex thee still,
    To thy sweet will making addition thus.
    Wilt thou, whose will is large and spacious,
    Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine?
    Shall will in others seem right gracious,
    And in my will no fair acceptance shine?
    The sea, all water, yet receives rain still,
    And in abundance addeth to his store;
    So thou, being rich in Will, add to thy Will
    One will of mine, to make thy large Will more.
    Let no unkind ‘No’ fair beseechers kill;
    Think all but one, and me in that one Will.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 135 “Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will”

    The speaker is cleverly punning on his nom de plume William Shakespeare.

    First Quatrain:  Her Strong Desire

    Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will
    And Will to boot, and Will in over-plus;
    More than enough am I that vex thee still,
    To thy sweet will making addition thus.

    In the opening quatrain of sonnet 135, the speaker tells his dark, attractive mistress that while many other comely women may have mere wishes, she has a strong wish; she has “Will.”  The term “will” carries the idea of desire or wish but with an intention, making it a much stronger wish.  

    A mere “wish” may never be acted upon, but a “will” probably will.  The expression “the will to live”  as opposed to “the wish to live” may help in comprehending the difference, that “will” is stronger than “wish.”

    The speaker appears to believe that he is flattering the dark lady by informing her she has the same sexual desire that he has, and he also is thus flattering his own ego by telling her that not only does she have the same carnal desire, she also possesses him and his desire.  To his mind, she is therefore thrice blessed:  she owns her own “will,” she possesses his “will,” and she possesses him, who is “Will” itself.

    Second Quatrain:  Adding Insult to Flattery

    Wilt thou, whose will is large and spacious,
    Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine?
    Shall will in others seem right gracious,
    And in my will no fair acceptance shine?

    In the second quatrain, the speaker adds insult to flattery, but at least he frames it as questions:  in the first question, he asks her outright for her physical favors.  Avoiding euphemism, he asks her to “vouchsafe to hide my will in thine.”  He then accuses her of promiscuity, which he seeks to offer as an excuse for his own lechery.  He reasons that because she satisfies her “will” with others, there can be no reason that she should not do so with him. 

    Third Quatrain: Rationalizing the Irrational

    The sea, all water, yet receives rain still,
    And in abundance addeth to his store;
    So thou, being rich in Will, add to thy Will
    One will of mine, to make thy large Will more.

    Seeking to further rationalize the efficacy of the couple’s wills coming together, the speaker compares their wills to the ocean that is “all water,” and still it continues to accept more in the form of rain.  The speaker professes that it is a good thing that “abundance addeth to his store.”  

    Seeing that the woman is full of desire, and the speaker is full of desire, the speaker adduces that the combination of all that desire can only multiply the advantages to be had by their coming together to satisfy themselves.  

    The speaker is dramatizing his total immersion in thoughts of the act that he had disdained.  He is demonstrating the demonic hold that this worldly “will” has on him and by extension, humankind.

    The Couplet: Fumbling About in a Notion

    Let no unkind ‘No’ fair beseechers kill;
    Think all but one, and me in that one Will.

    The speaker closes his request by commanding the woman not to turn him down.  He insists that his plea is “fair,” and he believes or pretends to fumble about in the idea that he has been perfectly persuasive in his dramatization of desire.  

    He maintains that she should “think all but one, and me in that one Will.”  He encourages her to think only of the unity of their strong desires as she includes him in that desire.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 136 “If thy soul check thee that I come so near”

    As with sonnet 135 “Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will,” the speaker continues his word play by punning on his pseudonymic nickname Will, dramatizing his lust for the alluring dark lady. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 136 “If thy soul check thee that I come so near”

    In sonnets 135 and 136, the speaker became intoxicated with punning his pen name, “Will.”  This section of the sonnet sequence seems to suggest that the speaker has nicknamed his penis, “Will.”  

    Thus there are at least three wills involved with these sonnets:  William Shakespeare, the writer’s pseudonym, the will or desire to write or in the “Dark Lady” section to commit adultery, and the instrument through by the speaker would commit the adultery.

    The tongue-in-cheek cattiness with which the speaker has glommed onto the term, “Will,” seems to suggest that his playfulness has gotten the better of him.  He becomes willing to say outrageous things, that even though clever, still would render him a scurrilous cad.  Nevertheless, the drama must proceed, and thus it does.

    Sonnet 136 “If thy soul check thee that I come so near”

    If thy soul check thee that I come so near
    Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy Will,
    And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there;
    Thus far for love, my love-suit, sweet, fulfil.
    Will will fulfil the treasure of thy love,
    Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one.
    In things of great receipt with ease we prove
    Among a number one is reckon’d none:
    Then in the number let me pass untold,
    Though in thy stores’ account I one must be;
    For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold
    That nothing me, a something sweet to thee:
    Make but my name thy love, and love that still,
    And then thou lov’st me,—for my name is Will.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 136 “If thy soul check thee that I come so near”

     The speaker continues his exercise in punning on his pseudonymic nickname Will.

    First Quatrain:  He Is Her Will

    If thy soul check thee that I come so near
    Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy Will,
    And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there;
    Thus far for love, my love-suit, sweet, fulfil.

    Addressing the voluptuous mistress again, the speaker admonishes her that if her conscience has any qualms about his desire for her, she should tell that unthinking conscience that he is her “Will.”  

    He is her desire for him, and his name is Will.  Because he deems that he is her possession, he concludes that her conscience will understand that he is permitted to be “admitted there,” or into her body.

    It is “for love” that he becomes a suitor in order to “fulfil” the desires of the lady—her lust, and his own lustful desires.  He is, of course, rationalizing his lust again, but this time focusing more squarely on her own lust than his.  He is somewhat an innocent who is merely willing to accompany the lady on her journey to lust fulfillment, he playfully suggests.

    Second Quatrain: Will and Desire

    Will will fulfil the treasure of thy love,
    Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one.
    In things of great receipt with ease we prove
    Among a number one is reckon’d none:

    The speaker then predicts that he, or “Will,” is going to “fulfil the treasure of [her] love,” or simply satisfy her desires.  Not only satisfy, but “fill it full with wills,” referring her to the sperm he is capable of leaving inside her vaginal cavity, after having completed his act, which he calls, “my will one.”  

    The speaker’s penis may be only one, but his sperm contains multitudes.  The male penchant for braggadocio has overtaken this speaker in sonnets 135 and 136.  His overpowering lust has rendered him a satyric fop.  Then he philosophizes that it is always easy to accomplish things from which one thinks one will receive much pleasure.

    Third Quatrain:  A Token of Lust

    Then in the number let me pass untold,
    Though in thy stores’ account I one must be;
    For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold
    That nothing me, a something sweet to thee:

    The speaker then concludes that since he has made much sense of his explanation, she should go ahead and allow him to join all the others she has tempted and tasted, even though he will be counted as only one.  She should allow him one more bit of wise counsel:  even if she will not desire to keep him in her company, she could at least retain one token of him, “a something sweet to [her].”  

    The Couplet:  The Will to Pun

    Make but my name thy love, and love that still,
    And then thou lov’st me,—for my name is Will.

    The token of sweetness, the speaker hopes, will simply be his name. And if his name were James or Edward, the last remark would remain unremarkable in its literalness.  But the speaker has gone out of his way to pun the term “will” and to associate it with his name “Will,” driving home the fact that when he utters that term, he is referring to lust, whether his own or hers.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 137 “Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes”

    Employing the technique of the well-placed question, the speaker in sonnet 137 “Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes” muses on the evil consequences from acting upon what the eye sees instead of what the heart knows to be true.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 137 “Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes”

    In sonnet 137 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker muses and bemoans the contradictory falsehood that lust engenders between his eyes and his heart.  The speaker sees yet he sees not.  And through his distorted vision, his heart becomes corrupted.  Such a situation cannot remain unattended by this speaker.  

    His has demonstrated his fealty to truth and beauty as he mused on his special talent in his thematic grouping, “The Muse Sonnets.”  His strong desire to remain right-thinking will not allow him to continue to wallow in sense pleasure that leads him into degradation and sorrow.

    Sonnet 137 “Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes”

    Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes
    That they behold, and see not what they see?
    They know what beauty is, see where it lies,
    Yet what the best is take the worst to be.
    If eyes, corrupt by over-partial looks,
    Be anchor’d in the bay where all men ride,
    Why of eyes’ falsehood hast thou forged hooks,
    Whereto the judgment of my heart is tied?
    Why should my heart think that a several plot
    Which my heart knows the wide world’s common place?
    Or mine eyes, seeing this, say this is not,
    To put fair truth upon so foul a face?
    In things right true my heart and eyes have err’d,
    And to this false plague are they now transferr’d.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 137 “Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes”

    The speaker in Sonnet 137 is attempting to work out the disparity between what his eye sees and what his heart tells him is correct.  His eye has led him to experience evil consequences.

    First Quatrain:  Love and Lust

    Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes
    That they behold, and see not what they see?
    They know what beauty is, see where it lies,
    Yet what the best is take the worst to be.

    Instead of speaking to his lady-love directly as he usually does in the thematic group called “Dark Lady Sonnets,” the speaker is revealing the falseness and foulness of her character, as he speaks directly to “Love.”  He is employing the term “Love” euphemistically; his drama depicting the relationship between his heart and his eyes demonstrates that he is in reality addressing “lust.” 

    The speaker appends his first question, as he often does in this kind of musing.  He wishes to know what “Love” does to him to make his eyes not see appropriately.  He labels “Love” the “blind fool,” as he makes it clear that he is, indeed, the “blind fool.”  

    He cannot comprehend that his eyes would betray him; he feels that he is aware of what beauty is, yet when he chances to meet this particular woman, he always manages to become bumfuzzled by her physical beauty.

    Second Quatrain:  Evil vs Good

    If eyes, corrupt by over-partial looks,
    Be anchor’d in the bay where all men ride,
    Why of eyes’ falsehood hast thou forged hooks,
    Whereto the judgment of my heart is tied?

    The speaker then begs the logic of “eyes” being placed “in the bay where all men ride,” or, he wants to know why should physical appearance to which he has become so favorably drawn render his genitals to flutter in an agitated state.   Even more so, he wishes to know why the lie told by his lying eyes is permitted to crook the “judgment of [his] heart.”  

    The speaker is examining the old riddle of the human tendency to want the exact thing that is not beneficial, the very thing, which after promising much pleasure and joy, will do the human mind, heart, and soul the most damage.

    Third Quatrain:  Swayed by Outward Beauty

    Why should my heart think that a several plot
    Which my heart knows the wide world’s common place?
    Or mine eyes, seeing this, say this is not,
    To put fair truth upon so foul a face?

    The speaker continues to muse on these questions:  he desires to know why his heart can be moved by a woman who behaves as a contemptible harlot.  He wonders why he permits an alluring face that he knows is “foul” to tempt him as if it were a representation of “fair truth.” 

    The speaker is again supplying answers to his own rhetorical questions, even as he poses them.  The conundrum of human behavior always reveals that that behavior swings like a pendulum between evil and good.  

    His eyes see only the outward beauty, while his mind knows otherwise.  But his heart has been swayed by the outward beauty even as it senses that such beauty is only skin deep, and the inner person of this wretched woman is full of deceit. 

    The Couplet: Bamboozled Error

    In things right true my heart and eyes have err’d,
    And to this false plague are they now transferr’d.

    The speaker concludes that his eyes and thus his heart have been bamboozled; therefore, they become erroneous prone. He leaves the sonnet still distressed in his sickening situation, asserting that his eyes and heart, and therefore his mind, have been afflicted by a disastrous level of falsehood.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 138 “When my love swears that she is made of truth”

    The speaker in sonnet 138 “When my love swears that she is made of truth” makes a mockery of truth in a relationship, even as he offers a feeble defense of indefensible actions and thought.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 138 “When my love swears that she is made of truth”

    Readers familiar with this speaker’s devotion to truth as portrayed in his “Muse Sonnets” may find the falsity on which this sonnet sequence focuses a bit jarring.  But if one notes carefully, the poet/speaker is quite aware of his allowing himself to be deceived, and he thus makes it clear that he is obviously just playing along to satisfy his lustful needs that he knows do not represent his higher self.

    Sonnet 138 “When my love swears that she is made of truth”

    When my love swears that she is made of truth
    I do believe her, though I know she lies,
    That she might think me some untutor’d youth,
    Unlearned in the world’s false subtleties.
    Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
    Although she knows my days are past the best,
    Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue:
    On both sides thus is simple truth supprest.
    But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
    And wherefore say not I that I am old?
    O! love’s best habit is in seeming trust,
    And age in love loves not to have years told:
    Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,
    And in our faults by lies we flatter’d be.

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    Commentary on “When my love swears that she is made of truth”

    At the same time that this speaker in sonnet 138 is making a mockery of truth in a relationship by offering a feeble defense of indefensible actions and thought, he is still polishing a fascinating drama of entertainment.  Likely the speaker in this sequence is more than ever separating himself from the ludicrous milksop he is creating of himself because of this disgraceful woman.

    First Quatrain:  A WilledDeception

    When my love swears that she is made of truth
    I do believe her, though I know she lies,
    That she might think me some untutor’d youth,
    Unlearned in the world’s false subtleties.

    The speaker in Shakespeare’s Sonnet 138 spills forth the bizarre admission that when his adulterous mistress assures him of her fidelity and truthfulness, he seems to accept her word on the issue.  

    However, he knows she is spewing a bald-faced lie.  And the speaker then makes it abundantly clear that he is merely pretending to accept her prevarication.  In actuality, he has become well aware that he cannot believe what she says, and he is convinced that she merely deals in deceitful claims. 

    Nevertheless, the duped lover then confesses to being a liar himself.  He would like to have her believe that he is as immature and unsophisticated as any young man.  He therefore feigns acceptance of  her lies, in order to cause her to accept the pretense that he is younger than he actually is.

    Second Quatrain:  Age-Old Vanity

    Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
    Although she knows my days are past the best,
    Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue:
    On both sides thus is simple truth supprest.

    In the second quatrain, the speaker condenses all the prevarication and falsifying on both sides.   He has become aware that she is aware that he is not actually a young man. He is not in the prime of his life, so he admits that his pretense remains in vain.  

    She is not really accepting the notion that he is a young man, anymore than he is accepting that she is a faithful love interest.  They both are exaggerating and lying all for the sake of their stupid, licentious, silly game.

    Third Quatrain: Deceptive Rationalization

    But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
    And wherefore say not I that I am old?
    O! love’s best habit is in seeming trust,
    And age in love loves not to have years told:

    In the third quatrain, the speaker attempts to rationalize the deceptions each partner has engaged, as he concocts the absurd notion that “love’s best habit is in seeming trust.”  But this speaker is fashioning a character, feigning a belief in what the poet/speaker knows to be false.

    The poet/speaker understands the value of truth because he is, in fact, a mature man, who has learned that such pretended “trust” is not trust whatsoever.  Such lovers as these cannot ever trust each other, because each is aware that the other is merely fabricating.

    Couplet:  Pun on a Lie

    Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,
    And in our faults by lies we flatter’d be.

    Finally, the couplet cannot bestow any hope of correcting this anomaly.  It can show only that the relationship between these two counterfeiters is based only on sexual gratification:  “I lie with her and she with me.”  

    The speaker puns on the term “lie.”  He has made it quite clear that these fake lovers “lie” to each other, and thus when he reports that they lie “with” each other, he is referring only to their sexual liaison, that is, reposing in bed as sexual partners.

    The speaker claims that they are “flattered” by this farcical relationship.  But because flattery is not a strong foundation on which to create a relationship, the speaker allows the reader to decide whether that relationship is a sad one—despite the gay glee that they may experience as they “lie” together and then lay each other.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 139 “O! Call not me to justify the wrong”

    In sonnet 139 “O! Call not me to justify the wrong,” again addressing the “dark lady,” the speaker bemoans and condemns her infidelity, as the tension grows between his desire and his intelligence. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 139 “O! Call not me to justify the wrong”

    The speaker continues to allow himself to be made a blithering fool by this woman.  She even rebuffs him so that his enemies can insult him.  This speaker, who treasures truth, beauty, and love seems to have become a whimpering nitwit because of this woman’s physically attractive body.

    The drama that this speaker continues to create reveals more about him than he even realizes.  By allowing himself this weakness, he may be putting his own reputation in jeopardy.  As a truth-teller, he has certainly lowered his vision by allowing such a despicable creature to control him.  

    Sonnet 139 “O! Call not me to justify the wrong”

    O! Call not me to justify the wrong
    That thy unkindness lays upon my heart;
    Wound me not with thine eye, but with thy tongue:
    Use power with power, and slay me not by art.
    Tell me thou lovest elsewhere; but in my sight,
    Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside:
    What need’st thou wound with cunning, when thy might
    Is more than my o’erpress’d defence can bide?
    Let me excuse thee: ah! my love well knows
    Her pretty looks have been my enemies;
    And therefore from my face she turns my foes,
    That they elsewhere might dart their injuries:
    Yet do not so; but since I am near slain,
    Kill me outright with looks, and rid my pain.

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 139 “O! Call not me to justify the wrong”

    Addressing the “dark lady,” the speaker bemoans and condemns her infidelity, as the tension grows between his desire and his intelligence.

    First Quatrain:  Coy Flirting

    O! Call not me to justify the wrong
    That thy unkindness lays upon my heart;
    Wound me not with thine eye, but with thy tongue:
    Use power with power, and slay me not by art.

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 139, the speaker addresses the “dark lady” pleading with her not to hurt him in such open and offending ways.  He prefers that she just tell him plainly what is on her mind, instead of coyly flirting with others in his presence.  He does not believe that he should have to excuse and defend himself for feeling the pain she causes by her disingenuousness.  

    The speaker wants an honest and open exchange between the two; his disposition requires exactitude, but he is discovering repeatedly that this lady is not capable of satisfying his wishes for plain truth.  

    Second Quatrain:  Stinging in an Unholy Alliance

    Tell me thou lovest elsewhere; but in my sight,
    Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside:
    What need’st thou wound with cunning, when thy might
    Is more than my o’erpress’d defence can bide?

    In the second quatrain, the speaker commands her to tell him that, “[she] loves[ ] elsewhere.”  The reader has encountered this complaint in many of the “dark lady” sonnets, and it becomes apparent that her flaw will continue to sting the speaker if he continues in this unholy alliance with her.

    In addition to a command, the speaker attaches a question, wondering why she has to “wound with cunning,” and he confesses a grave weakness that renders him a weasel as he whines that the strength of her continued infidelity overtakes his ability to defend himself against it. 

    Third Quatrain:   Engaging His Enemies

    Let me excuse thee: ah! my love well knows
    Her pretty looks have been my enemies;
    And therefore from my face she turns my foes,
    That they elsewhere might dart their injuries:

    The speaker with sarcasm insists that she would have him excuse her, knowing that it is her beauty, not her fine personality or intelligence that has captured his attention, a turn of events that the speaker knows to be inimical to his best interests.  He knows it is her physical appearance that has been his worst enemy.

    The speaker then avers that she has engaged his enemies, but he would have her behave in such a way that would allow “[his] foes” to spray their venom somewhere else, and not in his direction.  

    However, he knows he cannot trust her to listen to his commands and questions, but he seems compelled to engage her despite his desire to save himself from more humiliation and pain.

    The Couplet:  Throwing up His hands

    Yet do not so; but since I am near slain,
    Kill me outright with looks, and rid my pain.

    The speaker then throws up his hands again in despair, remarking that since he has  been nearly vanquished with the pain she has already caused, she might as will continue to stab him in the heart and “Kill [him] outright with looks.”  If she can once and for all accomplish his death, at least he will experience the end of “[his] pain.”

    Shakespeare Sonnet 140:  “Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press”

    The speaker in sonnet Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press” suffers from his conscious denial: he knows the “dark lady” is not true to him, but his infatuation with her causes him to ask her to feign fidelity.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 140 “Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press”

    Again, the speaker in this “Dark Lady” sonnet category is fighting a losing battle with this woman.  He continues to debase himself by begging her to behave in ways that are obviously quite foreign to her.  

    Begging someone to fake their feelings for the sake of a pretend relationship cannot but hold despair and loss for the beggar.  But until that gloomy time when he can take it no longer, he continues to enjoy his little dramas, which continue unabated, and in reality, he is likely continuing the relationship in order to collect firewood for his burning creativity.

    Sonnet 140 “Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press”

    Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press
    My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain;
    Lest sorrow lend me words, and words express
    The manner of my pity-wanting pain.
    If I might teach thee wit, better it were,
    Though not to love, yet, love, to tell me so;—
    As testy sick men, when their deaths be near,
    No news but health from their physicians know;—
    For, if I should despair, I should grow mad,
    And in my madness might speak ill of thee:
    Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad,
    Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be.
    That I may not be so, nor thou belied,
    Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide.

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 140 “Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press”

    The speaker is attempting to keep his anger in check; thus he creates a little drama wherein he beseeches his paramour to at least pretend to be civil to him.

    First Quatrain:  Patience Is Wearing Thin

    Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press
    My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain;
    Lest sorrow lend me words, and words express
    The manner of my pity-wanting pain.

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 140, the speaker, addresses the “dark lady,” insisting that she refrain from straining his patience with her cruelty and disdain.  He suggests that if she continues in her hateful actions, he will be forced to lash out at her.  Heretofore, he has remained “tongue-tied” and holding his emotions in check for her sake.

    If she will not take his advice to be as “wise” as she is “cruel,” his “sorrow” will motivate him to untie that tongue and express his suppressed pain, and he will let loose without pity for her feelings.  He reveals that his “patience” is wearing thin and cautions her lest she suffer his wrath.  The reader will snicker at these threats, wondering, ‘what is he going to do?  talk her to death’.

    Second Quatrain:  A Sick Man

    If I might teach thee wit, better it were,
    Though not to love, yet, love, to tell me so;—
    As testy sick men, when their deaths be near,
    No news but health from their physicians know;—

    The speaker, as he remains quite civil, does get in a zinger or two here and there.  With a condescending remark—”If I might teach thee wit”— he is implying that she is simply too dull-witted to be taught wit or anything else by him.  

    If, however, by chance, he were able to teach her to be a smart woman, it would be better that they were not involved as lovers.  But because they are engaged in a relationship—however, licentious it may be—he is insisting that she simply must tell him what she means, as he remains unable to comprehend her lies and obfuscating circumlocution.

    The speaker then likens his feelings for her to a sick man who can only hear good health news from his doctor.  He feels no compunction for admitting that he remains in denial because of his continuing lust for his mistress.

    Third Quatrain:  Worldly Appetite for Gossip

    For, if I should despair, I should grow mad,
    And in my madness might speak ill of thee:
    Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad,
    Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be.

    The speaker then tells the woman that he would become mentally unstable if he sank into “despair.”  And from that “madness,” he “might speak ill of [her].”  He then evaluates the world in general claiming that it has “grown so bad”; it plucks evil from every corner.  

    The speaker does not want to become a “mad slanderer[ ],” because he thinks that the world would believe him even though he knows he would probably be exaggerating.    He is warning her that if he does eventually explode and start denouncing the woman, her reputation will be further diminished because of the world’s appetite for gossip.

    The Couplet:  Protesting for the Impossible

    That I may not be so, nor thou belied,
    Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide.

    The speaker then concludes that if the lady will just keep her eyes on him for a change, he will not have to become this raving madman railing against her.  Even if she continues to flirt and carouse with others, if she will just keep her “eyes straight,” in the presence of others, he will overlook the fact that her straight eyes belie her “proud heart” that roams wide.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 141 “In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes”

    The speaker in sonnet 141 “In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes” taunts the “dark lady,” demeaning her looks, decrying her ability to attract him physically, yet insisting that he foolishly remains in her clutches.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 141 “In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes”

    The speaker’s attitude toward the beauty of the “dark lady” has dramatically changed in sonnet 141 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence; until now, he has complained heartily about his bewitchment by the lady’s dark beauty and its fatal attraction for him.  Now, he throws all that to the wind.  However, sonnet 130 had given a foreshadowing of this attitude.

    Sonnet 141 “In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes”

    In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes
    For they in thee a thousand errors note;
    But ’tis my heart that loves what they despise,
    Who, in despite of view, is pleas’d to dote.
    Nor are mine ears with thy tongue’s tune delighted;
    Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone,
    Nor taste, nor smell desire to be invited
    To any sensual feast with thee alone:
    But my five wits nor my five senses can
    Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
    Who leaves unsway’d the likeness of a man,
    Thy proud heart’s slave and vassal wretch to be:
    Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
    That she that makes me sin awards me pain.

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 141 “In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes”

    The speaker is taunting the “dark lady” by demeaning her looks and denying her ability to attract him physically, yet at the same time insisting that he foolishly remains allured by her.

    First Quatrain:   Not so Easy on the Eyes

    In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes
    For they in thee a thousand errors note;
    But ’tis my heart that loves what they despise,
    Who, in despite of view, is pleas’d to dote.

    The speaker addresses the mistress again, telling her that, in fact, she is not really that easy on the eyes, and his eyes detect “a thousand errors” in her appearance.  But even as his eyes “despise” what they see, his “heart” loves her “despite of view.”  And therefore he is “pleas’d to dote” on her.

    This seeming change of heart could merely be a ploy, simply another attempt to halt the woman’s infidelity.  He might be attempting to end her hold on him.  He knows that she is vain about her appearance as well as her personality.

    And thus he is likely attempting to use reverse psychology to encourage  her to be more attentive to him.  If she comes to believe that he does not actually appreciate her for her looks, he could possibly break off with her before she can break up with him.

    Second Quatrain:  Not so Pleasing to the Senses

    Nor are mine ears with thy tongue’s tune delighted;
    Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone,
    Nor taste, nor smell desire to be invited
    To any sensual feast with thee alone:

    The speaker then continues his denigration of the woman’s attributes.  He does not even care that much for the sound of her voice.  As a matter of fact, he tells her, she does not particularly please any of his senses.  

    In sonnet 130, he demonstrates how she does not compare favorably with a goddess, but now he notes that she does not compare well with other women.  His senses of hearing, touch, taste, and smell are as unmoved by her as his sense of sight is.

    Third Quatrain:  Reduced to Less Than a Man

    But my five wits nor my five senses can
    Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
    Who leaves unsway’d the likeness of a man,
    Thy proud heart’s slave and vassal wretch to be:

    Despite the negative knowledge communicated to him by his five senses, his “foolish heart” cannot stop itself “from serving [her].”  Because he has become her love slave, he hardly still resembles “the likeness of a man.”  He is a disgusting human vessel and not a real man at all.

    The Couplet:  The Pain of Sin

    Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
    That she that makes me sin awards me pain.

    All he receives from this relationship is a “plague.”  She motivates him to sin, and all he gets out of it “pain.”  He is taunting her, as he feigns his displeasure with your looks, but he is also quite serious as he bemoans the lustful relationship in which he seems to be inexorably tangled. 

    The speaker’s sense of worthlessness in the face of committing these adulterous sins with this woman is making him see her what she is—a disgraceful trollop.  Her qualities, which under more pleasant circumstances might be deemed pleasant or even beautiful, are diminished by the reality of her dark heart and unseemly behavior.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 142 “Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate”

    The speaker in sonnet 142 “Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate” employs financial and legal metaphors to denounce the sins of the dark lady, as he accounts for his own sins against his soul.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 142 “Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate”

    The speaker continues to cajole this woman into treating him with some semblance of kindness.  His legal and financial metaphors fit the severity of his tone as well as the dramatic importance of the suffering of his sad heart.  He seems to know that a day of reckoning is coming to both of them, as he continues to beg her to abandon her evil ways.  

    Sonnet 142 “Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate”

    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 profan’d their scarlet ornaments
    And seal’d false bonds of love as oft as mine,
    Robb’d 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!

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 142 “Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate”

    The speaker in sonnet 142 employs financial and legal metaphors to denounce the sins of the dark lady, as he accounts for his own sins against his soul.

    First Quatrain:  Sad State of an Affair

    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;

    In sonnet 142, addressing the mistress, the speaker is again complaining about the sad state of their affair.  He chortles that his sin is love, a term he uses as a euphemism for lust.  Yet as bad as his sin is, the sin of the mistress is worse because she is guilty of just plain “hate,” which he also euphemizes by qualifying the phrase with a sarcastic “dear virtue.” 

    Then the speaker exclaims, “O!,” and commands her to compare the sins, which he calls their “state” and insists that the comparison will reveal his state superior to hers.  At least he can euphemize his lust and call it “love”; she cannot convert hate into love, regardless of her disingenuousness.

    Second Quatrain:  Accusations

    Or, if it do, not from those lips of thine,
    That have profan’d their scarlet ornaments
    And seal’d false bonds of love as oft as mine,
    Robb’d others’ beds’ revenues of their rents.

    This clever speaker then offers to suggest an alternative scenario:  if she concludes the comparison and still prevaricates with her very self-same mouth, it is because her lips have made a mockery of their red decoration.  Again, he appears to be accusing her of yielding up herself promiscuously to others:  she has “seal’d false bond” with other men, to whom he lies as often as she lies with him. (Pun intended.)  

    The woman has “[r]obb’d others’ beds’ revenues of their rents.”  This metaphoric drama likely is a thinly veiled accusation of prostitution.  This speaker seems to be dragging his heart and mind through the mud for this woman, and she still treats him with disdain, which he undoubtedly realizes he has earned.

    Third Quatrain:  Breaking Spiritual Laws

    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.

    The speaker speculates that if what she is doing is legal, then his desire for her is also legal.  This conjecture is a pretentious way of stating what the speaker already knows:  that their relationship is not “lawful.”  He is breaking spiritual laws that will keep his soul in bondage, and he knows it.  

    The clever speaker is sure that she does not know this, because she is bound tightly to worldliness.  So he offers his conditional ploy in order to suggest that she should, therefore, take pity on him; after all, there may come a time when she will also long for pity.

    The Couplet:  The Law of Karma

    If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide,
    By self-example mayst thou be denied!

    Finally, the speaker asserts that if the woman fails to pity him and remove his pain and suffering in their relationship, she will eventually find herself in the same position he is.  She will be denied all pity and comfort as she has denied him.  He is admonishing her that her chickens will come home to roost.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 143 “Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch”

    In an uproariously funny drama, the speaker likens himself to a naughty baby who chases and cries for his mother after she speeds off to fetch a fleeing chicken.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 143 “Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch”

    The speaker in sonnet 143 “Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch” uses a complex structure of adverbial clauses to express his notion that as a housewife runs after her fleeing bird (first quatrain), while her infant tries to follow her and wails after her (second quatrain), thus he behaves toward to his dark beauty (third quatrain); therefore, he will make a plea (couplet).

    Sonnet 143 “Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch”

    Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch
    One of her feather’d creatures broke away,
    Sets down her babe, and makes all quick dispatch
    In pursuit of the thing she would have stay;
    Whilst her neglected child holds her in chase,
    Cries to catch her whose busy care is bent
    To follow that which flies before her face,
    Not prizing her poor infant’s discontent:
    So runn’st thou after that which flies from thee,
    Whilst I thy babe chase thee afar behind;
    But if thou catch thy hope, turn back to me,
    And play the mother’s part, kiss me, be kind;
    So will I pray that thou mayst have thy Will,
    If thou turn back and my loud crying still.

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 143 “Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch”

    The speaker is likening himself to a naughty baby who chases and cries for his mother after she speeds off to fetch a fleeing chicken.

    First Quatrain:  A Chase Scene

    Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch
    One of her feather’d creatures broke away,
    Sets down her babe, and makes all quick dispatch
    In pursuit of the thing she would have stay;

    The speaker creates a dramatic scene in which a housewife/mother begins to run after one of her chickens that has managed to escape the coop and is fleeing to parts unknown.  The housewife/mother, plops down her infant and quickly speeds off in quest of the chicken.

    The first quatrain offers only one complex clause of the complex sentence of which this sonnet is composed.  An entanglement of grammatical and technical elements often pops up in this speaker’s discourse, and his dexterity in sorting them out supplies the evidence that his appraisal of his writing talent is not mere braggadocio in the earlier sonnets.

    Second Quatrain:  Wailing after His Mother

    Whilst her neglected child holds her in chase,
    Cries to catch her whose busy care is bent
    To follow that which flies before her face,
    Not prizing her poor infant’s discontent:

    The unfortunate child is then attempting to catch the mother and goes wailing after her as she runs after the bird.  The child keeps his eye peeled on the  mother, who is hell-bent on retrieving the bird.  Although the child is heartbroken while the mother runs after the critter, the mother is hardly cognizant of her baby at all, because she so covets recovery of the chicken.

    Third Quatrain:  Hilarious Dramatic Comparison

    So runn’st thou after that which flies from thee,
    Whilst I thy babe chase thee afar behind;
    But if thou catch thy hope, turn back to me,
    And play the mother’s part, kiss me, be kind;

    In the third quatrain, the speaker then spits out his comparison:  the dark mistress plays the role of the mother, while the speaker portrays “[her] babe.”  The woman continues to fly from the arms of the speaker, chasing the affection of other men.  

    But the speaker, even as he offers his hilarious dramatic comparison, also hopes to soften the woman’s heart by asserting that the mother will eventually return to her babe and shower him with kisses and be kind to him.  He is urging the lady to behave similarly towards him.

    The Couplet:  Punning His Nom de Plume

    So will I pray that thou mayst have thy Will,
    If thou turn back and my loud crying still.

    The speaker has become so enamored of his “Will” pun that he exploits it again in this sonnet.  He will “pray” that the woman “may[ ] have [her] Will.”  Punning on his pseudonym, he claims he is praying that she achieve her wishes by returning to him.  

    Whatever she is chasing, whether sexual gratification or vanity of some sort, the speaker tries to assure her that he can fulfill her desires, if only she will “turn back” to him and stop his “crying” for her.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 144 “Two loves I have of comfort and despair”

    In sonnet 144 “Two loves I have of comfort and despair,” the speaker is examining the ambiguity of human nature, particularly his own:  he prefers to be guided by his “better angel” who is “right fair,” but he is tempted too often by a “worser spirit.” 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 144 “Two loves I have of comfort and despair”

    The speaker in sonnet 144 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence has become disheartened by his having made many bad choices that leave him in “despair” rather than in “comfort.”  He analyzes the two natures that seem to be battling within him, a battle of good and evil, of good angels vs bad angels.  

    While the speaker seems to be leaning toward believing that his better nature is losing that battle, he does leave open the possibility of  the opposite occurrence.  Although “doubt” is a painful human condition, at least it is not a positive or declarative state.  Doubt may lean toward the negative, but with further evidence, doubt can be changed to understanding and faith.

    Sonnet 144 “Two loves I have of comfort and despair”

    Two loves I have of comfort and despair
    Which like two spirits do suggest me still:
    The better angel is a man right fair,
    The worser spirit a woman, colour’d ill.
    To win me soon to hell, my female evil
    Tempteth my better angel from my side,
    And would corrupt my saint to be a devil,
    Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
    And whether that my angel be turn’d fiend
    Suspect I may, yet not directly tell;
    But being both from me, both to each friend,
    I guess one angel in another’s hell:
    Yet this shall I ne’er know, but live in doubt,
    Till my bad angel fire my good one out.

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 144 “Two loves I have of comfort and despair”

    As the speaker examines the ambiguity of his nature, he asserts that he prefers to be guided by his “better angel” who is “right fair,” but he is tempted too often by a “worser spirit.”  This common human problem finds a colorful treatment by this clever, muse-inspired poet.

    First Quatrain:  Dual Nature

    Two loves I have of comfort and despair
    Which like two spirits do suggest me still:
    The better angel is a man right fair,
    The worser spirit a woman, colour’d ill.

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 144, the speaker reports that there are “two loves” residing in his consciousness.  The famous German poet/playwright, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, created a similar situation for his Faust, who uttered the words, “Zwei Seelen, ach!, wohnen in meinem Brust,” (Two spirits, alas, reside in my heart.)  

    This ambiguity continually presents a universal conundrum for the human condition.  One wants to follow the path of goodness and morality, yet lustful urges tempt one to commit sins against the soul.  

    The great spiritual guru, Paramahansa Yogananda, has clearly explained that the strong delusional forces of maya befuddle and misdirect through confusion the human mind.  Those forces motivate human beings to think that evil will bring happiness, and that self-discipline will bring misery and unhappiness, and by the time we poor indulgent fools learn the truth, we are usually neck-deep in the sorrow that our ignorance has brought.

    Thus the speaker realizes that his better nature, which would bring him “comfort,” is often outflanked by the “worser spirit.” He is then thrust into a situation that evokes in him “despair.”  

    The “better nature” is masculine and the “worser” is feminine; these qualities do not correspond to human sex or gender in language declension; instead, they refer to the principles that govern the pairs of opposites, which function as the modus operandi of maya or delusion.  

    Both women and men become plagued with the same problems, and both must solve the problem by the same method that transcends the physical and mental to thus attain the spiritual; therefore, the better nature is “right fair,” while the worse is “colour’d ill.”   

    Second Quatrain:  The Battle of the Angels

    To win me soon to hell, my female evil
    Tempteth my better angel from my side,
    And would corrupt my saint to be a devil,
    Wooing his purity with her foul pride.

    The “female evil,” if he continues to follow it, will lead him to hell because it causes him to ignore, and therefore, weaken his “better angel.”  Instead of becoming a saint, he will “be a devil.”  The “foul pride” will overtake “his purity,” if he allows it to happen.

    This perceptive speaker understands the nature of duality, and he also understands the strength that that duality exerts over the human mind and heart.  His lament is directed to his own nature.  

    He knows he must discipline himself in order to straighten his ability to continue his journey down his path.  He is, therefore, using his knowledge to explain and also persuade his better nature to exert itself against his evil side.  By elucidating the nature of good and evil, he hopes to influence his better nature to make better choices in the future.

    Third Quatrain:  Uncertainty

    And whether that my angel be turn’d fiend
    Suspect I may, yet not directly tell;
    But being both from me, both to each friend,
    I guess one angel in another’s hell:

    Because both urges live in the same speaker, he cannot be sure how he will keep the evil urge from overtaking the good one.  Perhaps his “angel” will “be turn’d fiend,” but since they both live in him, he can only “guess one angel (lives) in another’s hell.”  The two collide, and the one causes the other to live in hell within him.

    Although he possesses a certain level of understanding, the speaker remains aware that the evil may still overtake the good.  He seems to cede power to the evil side, even against his will.  But if he had perfect power along with the fail-proof protection against the evil, he would not have an argument or even the motivation to begin the argument.

    The Couplet:  A Hopeful Doubt

    Yet this shall I ne’er know, but live in doubt,
    Till my bad angel fire my good one out.

    The speaker seems to end on a sad note.  Because the speaker suspects he will never be able to mollify the two parts of his psyche, he will “live in doubt.”  Thus the “worser spirit” just might win the battle for his soul.  

    On the other hand, because at this point he knows he will continue to “live in doubt,” the possibility is left open that the “good one” will be able ultimately to overcome and extinguish the “bad angel.” 

    At his point in the creation of this thematic sonnet group, the speaker can allow himself the possibility of failure.  If he fails, he will still have material for creating his little dramas, and if he succeeds in conquering his licentiousness, he will also remain in possession of a treasure trove of materials that will result in even more colorful and spiritually useful little dramatic sonnets.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 145 “Those lips that Love’s own hand did make”

    This sonnet may be the weakest of the entire set of 154.  The speaker is reaching here, striving to make clever a rather mundane little scenario that falls flat.

    Introduction and Text of  Sonnet 145 “Those lips that Love’s own hand did make”

    Sonnet 145 “Those lips that Love’s own hand did make” demonstrates an unfortunate, shallow attempt at cleverness; thus it does not, in fact, accomplish that goal.  The speaker simply sounds silly, as he appears to be concocting a situation while recounting a linguistic event with that despicable, dark lady.  

    The speaker is not directly addressing the woman in this sonnet as he is wont to do.  Interestingly, this sonnet is written in iambic tetrameter, instead of the traditional pentameter, in which all of the other sonnets are written, giving a clipped, curt rhythm.

    Sonnet 145 “Those lips that Love’s own hand did make”

    Those lips that Love’s own hand did make
    Breath’d forth the sound that said ‘I hate,’
    To me that languish’d for her sake:
    But when she saw my woeful state,
    Straight in her heart did mercy come,
    Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
    Was us’d in giving gentle doom;
    And taught it thus anew to greet;
    ‘I hate,’ she alter’d with an end,
    That follow’d it as gentle day
    Doth follow night, who like a fiend
    From heaven to hell is flown away.
    ‘I hate’ from hate away she threw,
    And sav’d my life, saying—‘Not you.’

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    Commentary on Sonnet 145 “Those lips that Love’s own hand did make”

    This sonnet is likely the weakest of the entire series of 154.  The speaker is obviously reaching here, striving to make clever a rather mundane little scenario that falls flat.

    First Quatrain:  The Cleverness of Incompleteness

    Those lips that Love’s own hand did make
    Breath’d forth the sound that said ‘I hate,’
    To me that languish’d for her sake:
    But when she saw my woeful state,

    In the first quatrain, the speaker reports that the woman has spewed forth the expression, “I hate,” and he makes the contrast between the lips “that Love’s own hand [had] made,” and the expression of hatred that they pronounced.  He reveals that she said these vile words to him even as he had been pining for her.

    The speaker then begins to report a turn-around of the lady’s sentiment by stating, “But when she saw my woeful state,” which he leaves for the next quatrain.  This construction is no doubt part of his attempt at cleverness by leaving the thought uncompleted.

    Second Quatrain:  Wiping Clean the Hatred

    Straight in her heart did mercy come,
    Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
    Was us’d in giving gentle doom;
    And taught it thus anew to greet;

    The speaker reveals that after seeing his sorrowful expression, she suddenly becomes sympathetic towards him.  He makes it difficult to accept his claim that “straight in her heart mercy c[a]me.”  

    In early sonnets, he has painted her the epitome of evil will toward him, but now he wants to play a little game with words.  The reader has to believe the speaker is deluding himself.

    But, nevertheless, the speaker claims that she changes her hatred and even chides herself for causing him pain.  He would have his listener believe that she is truly sorry for using her tongue “in giving gentle doom.”  She, accordingly, wipes clean her earlier expression of hatred and begins again.

    Third Quatrain:  The Clever Construct

    ‘I hate,’ she alter’d with an end,
    That follow’d it as gentle day
    Doth follow night, who like a fiend
    From heaven to hell is flown away.

    However, when the woman restates her expression, the same “I hate,” comes flying from her mouth.  But, and here is the clever construction of which the speaker feels very proud:  she concluded her spiteful remark with one that became mild and natural as daylight following nighttime or like some devil being expelled from heaven and deposited in hell where he belongs. 

    The speaker seems to understand that no matter what he says to delude himself, beneath the façade he knows the truth:  she is surely that fiend whom heaven has expelled to hell.  After setting up these contrasts, the speaker waits for the couplet to complete his little twist.

    The Couplet:  Gullible and Easy to Please

    ‘I hate’ from hate away she threw,
    And sav’d my life, saying—‘Not you.’

    The lady then tells him that she does actually hate, but she does not hate him.  And he buys into that, or at least pretends to, and thus claims that she has saved his life.  He is easy to please at times.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 146 “Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth”

    The speaker in sonnet 146 “Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth” addresses his soul (his true self), asking it why it bothers to continue to bedeck an aging body, when the soul is so much more important.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 146 “Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth”

    As the speaker in sonnet 146 “Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth” has for many years concentrated upon creativity, he has gained awareness that the decaying physical encasement cannot deserve the intense interest and attention that it often receives.  The speaker’s goal remains a moving force in his life.  He wishes to acquire soul knowledge that is permanent. 

    Such a lofty goal is the natural result of having lived a life of truth seeking for his creative efforts to fashion important sonnets that sing with love, beauty, and, above all, truth.  His constant sparring with his muse and untiring work in his writing have engaged him and placed him on a path to soul-realization.

    The speaker desires to rise above the vicissitudes of earthly living to enter into a realm of existence that allows one to know that death can never claim him.  He is the soul, not the body, and the soul is immortal, and as he comes to unite with his immortal soul, he can aver that “there’s no more dying then.”

    Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth

    Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth
    Fool’d by these rebel powers that thee array,
    Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,
    Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
    Why so large cost, having so short a lease,
    Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
    Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
    Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body’s end?
    Then soul, live thou upon thy servant’s loss,
    And let that pine to aggravate thy store;
    Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;
    Within be fed, without be rich no more:
    So shall thou feed on Death, that feeds on men,
    And Death once dead, there’s no more dying then.

    Original Text

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    Commentary on Sonnet 146 “Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth”

    The speaker in sonnet 146 addresses his soul (his true self), asking it why it bothers to continue to bedeck an aging body, when the soul is so much more important.

    First Quatrain:  Fooled by Physical Temptations

    Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth
    Fool’d by these rebel powers that thee array,
    Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,
    Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?

    In the first quatrain, the speaker of sonnet 146 directs a question to his soul, that is, his own true self: oh, my soul, why do you allow yourself to suffer within this expensively decorated outer body?  He is metaphorically comparing his physical body to a building; his outer frame flesh and skin are likened to “walls.”  

    The speaker is suffering as all mortals suffer, but he is aware that inwardly he is an immortal soul, and therefore, he finds it difficult to understand why he allows himself to be “fool’d by these rebel powers that thee array,” or fooled by the temptations of the physical body.

    Second Quatrain:  The Temporary Abode of the Soul

    Why so large cost, having so short a lease,
    Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
    Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
    Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body’s end?

    The speaker poses another question with a similar theme:  why bother with a clod of clay in which the soul will remain for only a short while?  Why spend time, effort, treasure on things for the body, which “worms, inheritors of this excess” will soon feast upon?  

    The speaker has grown weary of the constant care and adornment of the body, especially the procurement of elegant raiment that serves no purpose and begins to look unsightly when placed upon an aging body.  The body is not important; only the soul is essential, and the speaker wants to follow and drive home the precepts that accompany this realization.

    Third Quatrain:  To Rely More on Soul than Body

    Then soul, live thou upon thy servant’s loss,
    And let that pine to aggravate thy store;
    Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;
    Within be fed, without be rich no more:

    Because of the temporary stewardship of the body, the speaker instructs himself to live more inwardly, and let the body learn to live simply and modestly:  “Then soul, live thou upon thy servant’s loss, / And let that pine to aggravate thy store.”

    The speaker tells himself to meditate on the Divine soul within and pay less attention to the gross outward coat of flesh:  “Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross; / Within be fed, without be rich no more.”  He needs to be nourished by his spirit and not by his body.

    The Couplet:  To Overcome Death

    So shall thou feed on Death, that feeds on men,
    And Death once dead, there’s no more dying then.

    If the speaker were to continue to meditate on his true self and study the ways of the Divine Reality, he will be able to outsmart death.  Although ordinary folks permit death to overtake them, those blessed ones who unite with the soul become capable of transcending death, as they realize finally that the soul lives eternally:  “there’s no more dying then.”  

    This speaker continues to hold himself to his noble goal, one which remains the natural result of  living a life filled with extraordinary creativity while sparring with the muse that he has always found engaging.

    Where Is the “Dark Lady”? 

    Because this sonnet is categorized with the “Dark Lady” sonnets, readers might wonder why there is nary a mention of her or the plight against which the speaker has been struggling in the sonnets leading up to this one. 

    Remember that the speaker is suffering deeply because of the cruel treatment he has received from a woman who is supposed to love him.  Thus far he has complained, accused, and then groveled at the feet of this miscreant.  The issue tackled in this sonnet is motived directly by the pain and suffering the woman has caused the speaker. 

    He is now to the point of wondering if life is even worth living if one has to continue to grovel in pain without end.  He is thus trying to remind his own better nature that his suffering is not necessary.  And he is doing so by reminding himself that he is an immortal, perfect soul—not the physical body tossed about by delusional senses that lead him into perdition.

    Although she remains out the sight in this scene, she is behind it:  the “Dark Lady” is directly responsible for the speaker’s mood in this sonnet.  She is directly responsible for the deep anguish and troubling sorrows that are motivating the speaker to concentrate on and to continue to seek higher goals than the mere physical.  The dark lady is part of the physical, sexual world from which the speaker is now attempting to extricate himself.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 147 “My love is as a fever, longing still”

    In sonnet 147 “My love is as a fever, longing still,” the speaker is examining and ultimately condemning his unhealthy attachment to the dark lady. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 147 “My love is as a fever, longing still” 

    Sonnet 147 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence at first appears to be merely the speaker’s musing about his uncontrolled desires for the affection of the mistress, but it turns out that he is actually addressing her as he examines his spurious affair with her.

    Sonnet 147 “My love is as a fever, longing still” 

    My love is as a fever, longing still
    For that which longer nurseth the disease;
    Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
    The uncertain sickly appetite to please.
    My reason, the physician to my love,
    Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,
    Hath left me, and I desperate now approve
    Desire is death, which physic did except.
    Past cure I am, now Reason is past care,
    And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;
    My thoughts and my discourse as madmen’s are,
    At random from the truth vainly express’d;
    For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
    Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

    Original Text  

    Better Reading  

    Commentary on Sonnet 147 “My love is as a fever, longing still” 

    The speaker examines and condemns his unhealthy attachment to the dark lady, bemoaning his loss of reason, the result of allowing his lower nature to rule his conscience.

    First Quatrain:  Still in the Clutches

    My love is as a fever, longing still
    For that which longer nurseth the disease;
    Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
    The uncertain sickly appetite to please.

    In the first quatrain, the speaker confesses that he remains in the clutches of sexual attraction to  the woman.  He understand that this desire is degrading his health,  and thus he labels it a “sickly appetite.”  He declaims that not only is this unhealthy hankering a dreadful disease, but that it also continues to feed upon itself, nursing and perpetuating itself, resulting in the horrific situation, in which he finds himself.

    Reasoning that his emotional state is eliciting and perpetuating this debased condition, he decides to display his longing in medical terms, using such terms  as “fever,” “nurseth,” “disease,” and “ill.”  All of these images contribute to causing the patient have a”sickly appetite” that he believes he must discover how to ameliorate.

    Second Quatrain:  Reason Has Faded

    My reason, the physician to my love,
    Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,
    Hath left me, and I desperate now approve
    Desire is death, which physic did except.

    The speaker then claims that his “reason,” or  medical professional metaphorically his ability to think clearly, has abandoned him.  He can no longer think logically, because of his irrational desire to engage  in an unhealthy relationship with the slattern, to whom he has permitted himself the sad state of becoming attached.   

    The speaker says that because of his forgotten ability to reason he is continuing to confuse desire with death.  He  continues to be aware that his reasonable physician, if he were still communicating with that entity, would still be keeping him aware of the instinct to keep soul and body together.

    Third Quatrain:  Irrationality Has Stolen His Mind

    Past cure I am, now Reason is past care,
    And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;
    My thoughts and my discourse as madmen’s are,
    At random from the truth vainly express’d;

    The speaker then grumbles  that he is beyond help in curing his ailment, and he has also lost his capacity to be concerned about his delusional state.  He deems himself, “frantic-mad with evermore unrest.”  Individuals who continually allow the sex urge to dominate and contaminate their thoughts discover that it becomes virtually hopeless to put that genie back in the bottle.  

    The strong force of sex longings overpowers reason, and once aroused, passion aggressively demands gratification.  The speaker knows that he has permitted himself to be driven by perverse desires that cause “[his] thoughts” and his even speech to become as frenzied as that of a madman.  He discovers that he had become unsteady in his ability to search for truth, a central tenant of his faith and action that had remained his main interest as he creates his art. 

    The Couplet:  Not Loving

    For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
    Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

    In the couplet, the speaker begins to find some clarity.  He has been addressing his ravings to this woman and is now ready to hurl appropriate accusations at the filthy slattern. He also reveals the exact spot on which his mental health is  now shining its light:  he made the mistake of believing that the woman was a loving as well as lovely creature.

    But her true personality and behavior have revealed to him a monstrous prevaricator, who is incapable of truth and fidelity.  Instead of fair and bright, this miscreant’s behavior determines her to be “black as hell” and “dark as night.”

    Shakespeare Sonnet 148 “O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head”

    In sonnet 148 “O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head,” the sonneteer has come to the end of his ability to explore new themes in his sonnet sequence:  he is now rehashing the disparity between what he sees and what is there.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 148 “O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head”

    Sonnet 148 has the speaker speculating again about the disparity between his “eyes” and his brain.  He avers that his “judgment” has abandoned him because his eyes continue to deceive him:  he sees beauty that allures him, but beneath the skin of that beauty lie “foul faults.” 

    Sonnet 148 “O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head”

    O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head
    Which have no correspondence with true sight;
    Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled,
    That censures falsely what they see aright?
    If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,
    What means the world to say it is not so?
    If it be not, then love doth well denote
    Love’s eye is not so true as all men’s: no.
    How can it? O! how can Love’s eye be true,
    That is so vex’d with watching and with tears?
    No marvel then, though I mistake my view;
    The sun itself sees not till heaven clears.
    O cunning Love! with tears thou keep’st me blind,
    Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find.

    Original Text  

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    Commentary on Sonnet 148 “O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head”

    The sonneteer has come to end of his ability to explore new themes in this group of sonnets:  he is now rehashing the disparity between what he sees and what is there.

    First Quatrain:   Deceptive Eyes

    O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head
    Which have no correspondence with true sight;
    Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled,
    That censures falsely what they see aright?

    In sonnet 141, the speaker begins by telling the mistress that because he sees many flaws in her outward beauty, he does not hold affection for her by looking at her.  And in sonnet 148, once again, he is broaching the subject of the deception of his “eyes”: what he sees does not correspond to with the reality of what is actually there.

    He then conjectures that if his eyes are seeing correctly, then his discernment is gone, leaving him unable to distinguish right from wrong, error from accuracy, moral from immoral.  In sonnet 141, he blames his lack of discrimination on his “heart,” while in sonnet 148, he simply condemns his ability to think clearly.

    Second Quatrain:  False Eyes

    If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,
    What means the world to say it is not so?
    If it be not, then love doth well denote
    Love’s eye is not so true as all men’s: no.

    The speaker continues to examine the possibility that his eyes simply do not see what is before him.  He again tries to rationalize his feelings by comparison to what others think. 

    If his “false eyes” see correctly, and his lady is truly “fair,” then others have to be sitting in false judgment.  However, if what he sees is, in fact, tainted, then his eyes are “not so true as all men’s.”  He then reinforces the negative that he has come to believe with the simple negation, “no.” 

    Third Quatrain:  Troubled Eyes

    How can it? O! how can Love’s eye be true,
    That is so vex’d with watching and with tears?
    No marvel then, though I mistake my view;
    The sun itself sees not till heaven clears.

    The speaker then questions—”How can it?”—which he extends for clarification, “O! how can Love’s eye be true, / That is so vex’d with watching and with tears?”   Reasoning that because his eyes are troubled by what he sees the woman do and then by the fact that he cries tears that blind his vision, he compares his eyes to the “sun” which “sees not till heaven clears.” 

    By using his reason, he has determined that he could not possibly be seeing his mistress in all her reality because not only is his heart lead astray but his very eyesight in literally distorted from the real tears he sheds over the strained relationship.

    The Couplet: Blinded by Tears

    O cunning Love! with tears thou keep’st me blind,
    Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find.

    The speaker sums up his situation by craftily laying the blame at the woman’s feet:  she deliberately keeps him blinded by tears, so that his normally “well-seeing” eyes cannot detect her “foul faults.”  

    Shakespeare Sonnet 149 “Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not”

    In sonnet 149 “Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not,” the speaker poses six rhetorical questions to the “dark lady,” still attempting to find out her reason for the constant cruelty she metes out to him who adores her so.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 149 “Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not”

    Sonnet 149 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence is composed of a set of six rhetorical questions—a literary device in which the question contains its own answer.  For example, a paraphrase of the the opening question might be, “Are you really able to claim that I do not love you when you see me acting against my own best interests by continuing this ruinous relationship with you?”  

    As a statement:  Even though you claim that I do not love you, you can see that I act against my own best interest by continuing this ruinous relationship with you.  Likewise, the second question is:  “Don’t you understand that for you I debase myself with self-cruelty?”  And its implication is:  “You well understand that for you I debase myself with self-cruelty.”

    The sonnet then continues with four further rhetorical questions.  The speaker fashions his complaint into questions in order to add emphasis to their meaning, which is the function of all rhetorical questions.  The couplet caps the series with a heavily sarcastic command.

    Sonnet 149 “Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not”

    Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not
    When I against myself with thee partake?
    Do I not think on thee, when I forgot
    Am of myself, all tyrant, for thy sake?
    Who hateth thee that I do call my friend?
    On whom frown’st thou that I do fawn upon?
    Nay, if thou lour’st on me, do I not spend
    Revenge upon myself with present moan?
    What merit do I in myself respect,
    That is so proud thy service to despise,
    When all my best doth worship thy defect,
    Commanded by the motion of thine eyes?
    But, love, hate on, for now I know thy mind;
    Those that can see thou lov’st, and I am blind.

    Original Text  

    Better Reading  

    Commentary on Sonnet 149 “Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not”

    Attempting to ferret out the dark lady’s reason for the constant cruelty she metes out to him, the befuddled but still clever speaker now concocts his drama by posing six cleverly worded rhetorical questions to the slattern.

    First Quatrain:  Groaning and Complaining

    Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not
    When I against myself with thee partake?
    Do I not think on thee, when I forgot
    Am of myself, all tyrant, for thy sake?

    The first two rhetorical questions of sonnet 149 appear in the first quatrain and may be paraphrased as follows:  1.  Are you really able to claim that I do not love you when you see me acting against my own best interests by continuing this ruinous relationship with you?  2.  Don’t you understand that for you I debase myself with self-cruelty? 

    Throughout this “Dark Lady” thematic group of the sonnet sequence, the speaker has continued to groan and complain about how he is kinder to the woman than he is to himself.  

    He continues to swallow his pride and hand over his own thoughts and feelings to a supercilious woman who spurns him and abuses him and then audaciously insists that he does not hold affection for her.

    Second Quatrain:  Sacrificing for Mistreatment

    Who hateth thee that I do call my friend?
    On whom frown’st thou that I do fawn upon?
    Nay, if thou lour’st on me, do I not spend
    Revenge upon myself with present moan?

    Rhetorical questions 3, 4, and 5 continue in the second quatrain, and may be paraphrased as follows:  3.  Have I not estranged myself from all those who have spoken ill of you?  4.  Are you not aware that I scorn anyone who scorns you?  5.  And as you look at me with disdain, do I not berate myself for your sake?

    The speaker is confessing that he has sacrificed other friends for her sake.  And he even scolds himself after she makes him think that he is to blame for her disagreeable treatment of him.  He wants to make her realize that he has been willing to surrender not only other friends, but also his own self-interest for her sake.

    Third Quatrain:  Self-Hate and Low Self-Esteem

    What merit do I in myself respect,
    That is so proud thy service to despise,
    When all my best doth worship thy defect,
    Commanded by the motion of thine eyes?

    The final question comprises the entire third quatrain.  A paraphrase might result as:  6.  When you see me under the spell of your wondering eyes, how do you think I should have any self-esteem left when I virtually hate myself in order to serve your blundering ways? 

    The speaker has become desperate to understand the betrayal of trust and appreciation he feels he deserves after remaining dedicated to serving this deceitful woman’s needs.  He knows he has degraded himself while allowing his senses to rule him instead of his balanced mind.

    The Couplet:  Seeing What Is Not There

    But, love, hate on, for now I know thy mind;
    Those that can see thou lov’st, and I am blind.

    In the couplet, the speaker seems to throw up his hands telling the woman to go ahead and hate him if she must.  But at least he finally knows what she is thinking.  He adds a final, sarcastic jab:  anyone who thinks that you can love is fooling himself, and yet I consider myself the deluded one.  

    Depending upon how one reads the last line, another interpretation is also possible:  the speaker wishes to contrast himself with those men that the “dark lady” would love; thus, he claims that she loves only the ones who “can see,” and therefore, she cannot love him, because he is blind.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 150 “O! from what power hast thou this powerful might”

    The speaker of the “dark lady” sonnets has become addicted to this form of poetic rhetoric, employing it often, posing four questions in the quatrains of sonnet 150 “O! from what power hast thou this powerful might.”

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 150 “O! from what power hast thou this powerful might”

    In sonnet 150 “O! from what power hast thou this powerful might,” again the speaker poses questions to the mistress, and again they are questions that only he can answer.  The form of questioning is merely a rhetorical device and is not concerned with gathering answers from this person, who he knows would not have the intelligence to answer anyway.  

    Sonnet 150 “O! from what power hast thou this powerful might”

    O! from what power hast thou this powerful might
    With insufficiency my heart to sway?
    To make me give the lie to my true sight,
    And swear that brightness doth not grace the day?
    Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill,
    That in the very refuse of thy deeds
    There is such strength and warrantise of skill,
    That, in my mind, thy worst all best exceeds?
    Who taught thee how to make me love thee more,
    The more I hear and see just cause of hate?
    O! though I love what others do abhor,
    With others thou shouldst not abhor my state:
    If thy unworthiness rais’d love in me,
    More worthy I to be belov’d of thee.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 150 “O! from what power hast thou this powerful might”

    The speaker of sonnet 150 “O! from what power hast thou this powerful might” knows that the “dark lady” would not have the intelligence to answer any of the questions he poses to her.  Why does he ask them?  As most rhetorical questions do, they function to emphasize the answer they imply. 

    First Quatrain:   Two Questions

    O! from what power hast thou this powerful might
    With insufficiency my heart to sway?
    To make me give the lie to my true sight,
    And swear that brightness doth not grace the day?

    The first quatrain contains two questions:  where does it come from, this force you exert to cause my heart to bend to your wishes?   He adds that even though she possesses this “powerful might,” he labels it “with insufficiency” making it known that he understands how lame her power really is.  

    The weakness of her power reveals ever more clearly how wretched the speaker has become from all of his attention paid to this unworthy woman.  He knows she can only do him harm, weaken his resolve to live a moral life, distract him from his previously stated goals of the pursuit of truth and beauty.  His outbursts cause his sonnets to resemble a confessional, but instead of dumping his sins onto a priest, he crafts them into works of art.

    His second question asks how she has the power to make him see what is not there.  His sight becomes so distorted that he has not the ability to aver that the sun shines.  Her ability to attract him to filth closes his eyes to all else that is good, clean, and bright.

    Second Quatrain:  Turning Everything Disgusting

    Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill,
    That in the very refuse of thy deeds
    There is such strength and warrantise of skill,
    That, in my mind, thy worst all best exceeds?

    The third question takes up the entire second quatrain:  how is it that you have the muscle to cause everything to turn disgusting and with “such strength” to cause “my mind” to believe that the worst things you do are better than the best that can be done.

    The speaker, at this point, becomes nearly mad with a confused brain. Knowing that the woman is immoral, yet feeling without power to struggle against the attraction he maintains for her, he can only moan and complain bitterly in sonnet after dramatic sonnet.

    Third Quatrain:  Distorting His Feelings

    Who taught thee how to make me love thee more,
    The more I hear and see just cause of hate?
    O! though I love what others do abhor,
    With others thou shouldst not abhor my state:

    The final question takes up the first two lines of the third quatrain:  “who taught thee” how to distort my feelings?  The more he experiences her harmful ways, that is, the more he experiences the things he knows he should hate, the more he appears to love her, or be attracted to her.  

    Although he seems to love what other people, who think with clarity, hate, he admonishes that her she should not agree with the others who find his own state of mind hateful.  He seems always to be telling her what to think and feel, knowing his advice never exerts any influence on or awareness in her.

    The Couplet:  The Uncomprehending

    If thy unworthiness rais’d love in me,
    More worthy I to be belov’d of thee.

    The speaker then sums up his rhetorical questioning with a strange remark:  since this shady woman, who is lacking worth, has influenced him to be attracted to her, somehow it seems to follow that he is “worthy” of her love and affection.  If the woman were capable of understanding such logic, not even this small brained strumpet would agree with such a sham conclusion.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 151 “Love is too young to know what conscience is”

    The speaker is studying the nature of “conscience” and “lust” and dramatizes the effect of lust on his other self that rises and falls through conscienceless motivation.  He concocts one the ugliest images to appear in literary works—one that degrades him as he gives in to its lust.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 151 “Love is too young to know what conscience is”

    In sonnet 151 “Love is too young to know what conscience is” from “The Dark Lady Sonnets” of the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker is offering a clear comparison between the dictates of the flesh and the dictates of the soul.  He reveals his awareness that certain bodily functions are capable of waylaying moral judgment.

    Sonnet 151 “Love is too young to know what conscience is”

    Love is too young to know what conscience is;
    Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?
    Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,
    Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove:
    For, thou betraying me, I do betray
    My nobler part to my gross body’s treason;
    My soul doth tell my body that he may
    Triumph in love; flesh stays no further reason,
    But rising at thy name doth point out thee
    As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride,
    He is contented thy poor drudge to be,
    To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.
    No want of conscience hold it that I call
    Her ‘love’ for whose dear love I rise and fall.

    Original Text  

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    Commentary on Sonnet 151 “Love is too young to know what conscience is”

    When the speaker fails to follow his intuition of truth, he falls victim to lecherous urges that blemish his soul.  His stick of flesh pointing to the object of its lust takes his mind in the wrong direction.

    First Quatrain:  The Euphemistic Love

    Love is too young to know what conscience is;
    Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?
    Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,
    Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove:

    The speaker asserts in the first line of the first quatrain of sonnet 151 that lust remains too immature to arise to the knowledge of wisdom that leads to proper behavior.  He is again employing the term “love” as a euphemistic metaphor for “lust.”  In the second line, he avers that “love” now employed literally and “conscience” are virtually identical, as “conscience” and soul are identical.  

    The speaker then puts forth the rhetorical question, what sentient human being is not cognizant of the fact that “conscience” is activated by love?  But he knows that the “gentle cheater” does not know this.  This physically beautiful woman does not possess a beautiful mind.  

    Thus he suggests to her that she not try to prove his flaws, for she might find that she is guilty of the same faults that he is.  Of course, he does not believe this.  He is winding down his relationship with her because he knows it has no future.

    Second Quatrain:  Relationship between Body and Soul

    For, thou betraying me, I do betray
    My nobler part to my gross body’s treason;
    My soul doth tell my body that he may
    Triumph in love; flesh stays no further reason,

    The speaker then accurately describes the relationship between body and soul as well as between himself and the dark lady.  When she betrays him, he follows and betrays his “nobler part” which is his soul.  His “gross body” or physical body commits treason again his soul, every time he allows himself to be seduced by this woman.

    The speaker reports that his soul tries to guide him to the right thing that he should do; his soul directs his body to act in ways that “he may / Triumph in love.”  But “flesh stays no further reason.”  The flesh is weak and succumbs even when the mind is strong.

    Third Quatrain: Stick of Flesh

    But rising at thy name doth point out thee
    As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride,
    He is contented thy poor drudge to be,
    To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.

    The speaker completes the clause from the preceding quatrain, “flesh stays no further reason, / / But rising at thy name doth point out thee / As his triumphant prize.”  Referring to his penile erection that occurs “at [her] name,” he makes a joke at the woman’s expense:  she is a “triumphant prize” for this stick of flesh that is pointing at her.  This depiction remains one of the ugliest and most repulsive images in English literature.

    Continuing his penile reference, the speaker abandons himself to a full characterization of his male member, stating that the organ takes pride in its function and that “He” feels pleased just to be the woman’s “poor drudge.”   “He” is happy to erect himself for her sake and remain limp beside her at other times. 

    The Couplet:  Whole Self vs Stick of Self

    No want of conscience hold it that I call
    Her ‘love’ for whose dear love I rise and fall.

    The speaker then declares that his male member has no conscience, and while his mind and consciousness are in the grip of lecherous strain, he mistakenly calls the lust he feels for her “love,” which he places in single scare quotes:  ‘love’. 

    For her “dear love,” the speaker claims he “rise[s] and fall[s],” cleverly suggesting a parallel between his whole self and his other little flesh stick of self that also rises and falls at her behest.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 152 “In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn”

    Sonnet 152 “In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn”is the final sonnet that directly addresses the “dark lady”; it is quite fitting that it closes with the same complaint he has long issued against the woman.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 152 “In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn”

    In the first line of sonnet 152 “In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn” from “The Dark Lady Sonnets” in the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker commits the grammatical sin of a dangling participle:  “In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn”—the prepositional modifying phrase “in loving thee” requires that element modified be “thou.” That modification, however, makes no sense. 

    The speaker is not saying that the addressee, the dark lady, is loving herself.  The proper modified element is “I,” which appears in the clause “I am forsworn.”  The grammatical constructions of this poet are nearly pristine in their correct usage.  He, no doubt, is relying on the second line to clear up the misunderstanding that his dangling participle causes.

    Sonnet 152 “In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn”

    In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn
    But thou art twice forsworn, to me love swearing;
    In act thy bed-vow broke, and new faith torn,
    In vowing new hate after new love bearing.
    But why of two oaths’ breach do I accuse thee,
    When I break twenty? I am perjur’d most;
    For all my vows are oaths but to misuse thee,
    And all my honest faith in thee is lost:
    For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindness,
    Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy; And, to enlighten thee, gave eyes to blindness,
    Or made them swear against the thing they see;
    For I have sworn thee fair; more perjur’d I,
    To swear against the truth so foul a lie!

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    Commentary on Sonnet 152 “In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn”

    The speaker concludes his “dark lady” subsequence by issuing the same complaint with which he began the sequence.  While the two final sonnets—153 and 154—remain technically part of the “Dark Lady” thematic group, they function differently, and sonnet 152 is actually the final sonnet to address the lady directly.

    First Quatrain: Legalese and Love

    In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn
    But thou art twice forsworn, to me love swearing;
    In act thy bed-vow broke, and new faith torn,
    In vowing new hate after new love bearing.

    As he has done many times before, the speaker resorts to legal terminology as he continues winding up his dramatic study of his tumultuous relationship with the dark lady.  

    He reminds her that she already knows he has sworn to love her, but then he adds a paradoxical statement, “But thou art twice forsworn, to me love swearing.”   She broke her vow to be sexually faithful by bedding other men, and then she broke her vow to love him by telling him she hates him.

    Second Quatrain:  Lost Faith

    But why of two oaths’ breach do I accuse thee,
    When I break twenty? I am perjur’d most;
    For all my vows are oaths but to misuse thee,
    And all my honest faith in thee is lost:

    The speaker then poses the question, why should I blame you for breaking two vows when I break twenty?  He claims that he is “perjur’d most” or that he has told more lies than she has.  He claims that, on the one hand, he makes his vows only to “misuse thee.”  Yet on the other hand, all the faith he has in her “is lost.” 

    Third Quatrain:  Bestowing Unmerited Qualities

    For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindness,
    Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy; And, to enlighten thee, gave eyes to blindness,
    Or made them swear against the thing they see;

    It turns out that the speaker’s “oaths” held the noble purpose of giving the woman all those qualities that she lacks:  love, truth, constancy.  He has attempted repeatedly to elicit from her “deep kindness” all of these noble qualities.  By showing her how to trust, he had hoped she would become trustworthy.

    In addition, the disheartened speaker had hoped to enlighten her by opening her eyes to more decent ways of behaving, but he ultimately found himself lying to himself, trying to convince his own eyes that what they saw was false, that he pretended for the sake of his misplaced affection for this woman.

    The Couplet:  Swearing and Lying

    For I have sworn thee fair; more perjur’d I,
    To swear against the truth so foul a lie!

    The speaker has many times declared that the woman was “fair,” and he now admits that such swearing made him a liar.  He committed perjury against truth by swearing to “so foul a lie.”  

    The conclusion of the relationship is achieved through the implied finality of the legalese  terminology that denounces for the last time the source of falsehood and treachery.  His final admission allows him to leave the relationship, knowing that truth in on his side.

    Shakespeare Sonnets 153 “Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep

    Sonnet 153 “Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep” alludes to Roman mythology through the characters of Cupid, god of love, and Diana, goddess of the hunt.  

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 153 “Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep

    The two final sonnets 153 and 154 are nearly identical; 154 is essentially a paraphrase of 153.  They differ from the other “dark lady” poems in two main ways:  they do not address the lady directly as most of the others do, and they employ use of Roman mythology for purposes of analogy.  

    Sonnet 153 “Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep”

    Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep
    A maid of Dian’s this advantage found,
    And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep
    In a cold valley-fountain of that ground;
    Which borrow’d from this holy fire of Love
    A dateless lively heat, still to endure,
    And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove
    Against strange maladies a sovereign cure.
    But at my mistress’ eye Love’s brand new-fired,
    The boy for trial needs would touch my breast;
    I, sick withal, the help of bath desired,
    And thither hied, a sad distemper’d guest,
    But found no cure: the bath for my help lies
    Where Cupid got new fire, my mistress’ eyes.

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    Commentary onSonnet 153 “Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep

    Sonnet 153 alludes to Roman mythology through the characters of Cupid, god of love, and Diana, goddess of the hunt.  

    First Quatrain:  Carrying a Torch

    Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep
    A maid of Dian’s this advantage found,
    And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep
    In a cold valley-fountain of that ground;

    In the first quatrain of Sonnet 153, the speaker, who is still the same speaker smarting from his unsatisfactory love affair with the dark mistress, dramatically alludes to the Roman god of love, Cupid.  In this little drama, Cupid falls asleep leaving his torch unattended.  One of Diana’s handmaidens sees Cupid asleep and steals off with his torch, which she tries to extinguish by dipping in a cold-spring pool of water.

    The speaker, in addition to exposing yet again his suffering at the hands of his dark mistress, is dramatizing a myth wherein medicinal hot springs is created.  His clever portrayal also employs an analogy between the Cupid torch and his own physical and mental torch of love.  The expression “to carry a torch” for someone after the breakup of a romance comes from the mythological Cupid with his torch.

    Second Quatrain:  From Cold to Hot Springs

    Which borrow’d from this holy fire of Love
    A dateless lively heat, still to endure,
    And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove
    Against strange maladies a sovereign cure.

    The Dianian nymph, however, was unsuccessful in extinguishing the torch’s flame, but the spring takes on the heat, transforming its cold waters into a hot-springs bath that people henceforth would use for curing physical ailments.  

    The waters are heated by the powerful “holy fire of Love,” and a “seething bath” continued in perpetuity, “which yet men prove / Against” all manner of physical illness; they come to the baths to seek “sovereign cure.” 

    Third Quatrain:  Allusion to Explicate Delusion 

    But at my mistress’ eye Love’s brand new-fired,
    The boy for trial needs would touch my breast;
    I, sick withal, the help of bath desired,
    And thither hied, a sad distemper’d guest,

    In the third quatrain, the purpose of the little Cupid-Diana drama becomes apparent.  The speaker is dramatizing his own “holy fire of Love,” that is, his obsessive lust for his mistress.  When he sees his mistress, or even just “[his] mistress’ eyes,” his own “Love brand,” that is, male member becomes “new-fired” or aroused to sensual desire.

    If the little god of love were to touch the speaker’s breast with his torch, the speaker would again become love sick, as he always does, and he would hurry to the hot springs that Cupid’s torch had created to try to be cured of his love-sickness.  

    However, the speaker asserts that he would be “a sad distemper’d guest” at the baths resort because he is always in a melancholy funk through the ill-treatment he suffers at the hands of the dark lady.

    The Couplet:  No Help

    But found no cure: the bath for my help lies
    Where Cupid got new fire, my mistress’ eyes.

    Unlike others who might have experienced a cure at the medicinal hot springs, this speaker, unfortunately, “found no cure.”  Referring to his male appendage as “Cupid” now, he claims that he could get help only from his “mistress’ eyes,” those same pools that always stimulate him to the passionate lust of coital arousal.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 154 “The little Love-god lying once asleep”

    Paraphrasing sonnet 153, sonnet 154 “The little Love-god lying once asleep” pairs up with its predecessor to bring down the curtain on this drama of unfulfilled love (“lust”) between speaker and mistress.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 154 “The little Love-god lying once asleep”

    Shakespeare sonnet 154 “The little Love-god lying once asleep” is the final installment in the “Dark Lady” thematic classification, as well as the final sonnet in the 154-sonnet sequence.

    Because sonnet 154 “The little Love-god lying once asleep” is essentially a paraphrase of sonnet 153, it, therefore, bears the same message.  The two final sonnets keep the same theme, a complaint of unrequited, scorned love, while dressing the complaint with the gaudy clothing of mythological allusion. 

    Again employing the Roman god, Cupid, and the goddess Diana, the speaker achieves a distance from his feelings—a distance that he, no doubt, hopes will finally bring him some comfort.

    In most of the “dark lady” sonnets, the speaker addresses the mistress directly or makes it clear that what he is saying is intended specifically for her ears.  In the last two sonnets, the speaker does not address the mistress; he does mention her, but he is speaking now about her instead of directly to her.  

    He is now withdrawing from the drama; the reader senses that he has grown weary from his battle for the lady’s love and attention, and now he just decides to make a philosophical drama that heralds the ending, saying essentially, “I’m through.”

    Sonnet 154 “The little Love-god lying once asleep”

    The little Love-god lying once asleep
    Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand,
    Whilst many nymphs that vow’d chaste life to keep
    Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand
    The fairest votary took up that fire
    Which many legions of true hearts had warm’d;
    And so the general of hot desire
    Was, sleeping, by a virgin hand disarm’d.
    This brand she quenched in a cool well by,
    Which from Love’s fire took heat perpetual, Growing a bath and healthful remedy
    For men diseas’d; but I, my mistress’ thrall,
    Came there for cure, and this by that I prove,
    Love’s fire heats water, water cools not love.

    Original Text  

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    Commentary Sonnet 154 “The little Love-god lying once asleep”

    Paraphrasing sonnet 153, sonnet 154 pairs up with its predecessor to bring down the curtain on this drama of unfulfilled love (“lust”) between speaker and mistress.

    First Quatrain:   Grabbing the Torch

    The little Love-god lying once asleep
    Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand,
    Whilst many nymphs that vow’d chaste life to keep
    Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand

    In the first quatrain, the speaker alludes to the Roman mythological god Cupid, saying that the god is sleeping, and his “heart-inflaming brand” or torch is lying by his side.  Along come “many nymphs” or handmaidens of the goddess of the hunt Diana; one of the maidens grabs the torch.

    Second Quatrain:  A Thieving Virgin

    The fairest votary took up that fire
    Which many legions of true hearts had warm’d;
    And so the general of hot desire
    Was, sleeping, by a virgin hand disarm’d.

    The speaker claims that the maiden who steals Cupid’s torch is the “fairest votary.”  He reports that the fire from this torch had caused many men to fall in love, and he emphasizes that now the torch is stolen by “a virgin” while the little love god lies fast asleep.

    Third Quatrain:  Cool the Flame, or Heat the Water

    This brand she quenched in a cool well by,
    Which from Love’s fire took heat perpetual, Growing a bath and healthful remedy
    For men diseas’d; but I, my mistress’ thrall,

    The maiden carries the torch to a “cool well” and tries to put out the flame, but instead she succeeds in heating the water.  The hot water becomes widely thought to possess health-giving powers “for men diseas’d.”  The speaker then asserts that such is not so for him in his “mistress’s thrall.”

    The Couplet:  Still no Cure

    Came there for cure, and this by that I prove,
    Love’s fire heats water, water cools not love.

    When the speaker goes to the bath famed for “healthful remedy,” he finds that there is no cure for him.  Love can heat water, but water cannot cool love.  What can the speaker do now?  There seems to be no resolution for his predicament.

    However, the likely implication from the two final sonnets is that he must simply walk away from her.  He must avert his eyes from the object that arouses his lust.  Instead merely stating that he must leave her, he leaves her by employing the mythological allusions in the two final sonnets that themselves have essentially left her.

    In the two final sonnets, the only mention of the woman is in the phrases “my mistress’ eyes” in sonnet 153 and “my mistress’ thrall” in sonnet 154.  The speaker is focusing on the physical attributes and that fact that they have enthralled him.  Thus because of his sick status which nothing can cure, he has no other alternative than to simply say—or strongly imply—I’m through.

    Cupid’s Torch vs Bow and Arrow

    The speaker’s choice of Cupid is obvious for the god’s representation of love, but the speaker also focuses on the “torch” instrument instead of the more common “bow and arrow.”  

    The choice of torch is obvious as well, as the speaker has often euphemistically referred to his aroused copulatory organ at the sight of the dark lady.  The speaker exaggerates his lust by dramatizing its ability to heat water, while water lacks the ability to cool his lust.

    The focus on the “torch” is also significant because the speaker’s relationship with the dark lady is based on lust, not love.  Cupid’s bow and arrow suggest that falling in love happens after Cupid has aimed his arrow at a target’s heart.  But it is not the speaker’s heart that craves the dark lady; it is his penis—his “torch” that he carries for her.  

    Whenever the speaker has employed the term “love” in the “Dark Lady Sonnets,” he employs it euphemistically for “lust.”  The heart loves, but the penis lusts.  And that state of affairs must be ended, if the speaker is to endure as a complete human being, capable of meeting his challenge of creating literary works of truth, beauty, and love.

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    Shakespeare Sonnet 127 “In the old age black was not counted fair”

    Sonnet 127 “In the old age black was not counted fair” begins the “Dark Lady” series of the Shakespeare sonnets—the third thematic grouping.  The speaker begins by railing against artificial beauty.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 127 “In the old age black was not counted fair”

    Scholars and critics have created three thematic categories of the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence: 

    The Marriage Sonnets: 1-17
    The Fair Youth Sonnets: 18-126
    The Dark Lady Sonnets: 127-154

    While the “Marriage Sonnets” deserve their label, as the speaker contrives to persuade a young handsome man to marry and produce beautiful offspring, the “Fair Youth Sonnets” remain problematic because there is no actual imagery of a “fair youth” or a “young man” in the poems.  Sonnets 18-126, the bulk of the 154, actually reflect the speaker’s spiritual exploration and examination of his dedication to his creativity and writing talent.

    The “dark lady” sonnet sequence begins with sonnet 127 and continues through to the final sonnet 154.  These sonnets, while clearly containing imagery of an actual dark-haired, dark-skinned woman, may also be read as “dark mood” sonnets.

    Sonnet 127 “In the old age black was not counted fair”

    In the old age black was not counted fair
    Or if it were, it bore not beauty’s name;
    But now is black beauty’s successive heir,
    And beauty slander’d with a bastard’s shame:
    For since each hand hath put on Nature’s power,
    Fairing the foul with Art’s false borrow’d face,
    Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower,
    But is profan’d, if not lives in disgrace.
    Therefore my mistress’ brows are raven black,
    Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem
    At such who, not born fair, no beauty lack,
    Sland’ring creation with a false esteem:
    Yet so they mourn, becoming of their woe,
    That every tongue says beauty should look so.

    Original Text

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    Commentary on Sonnet 127 “In the old age black was not counted fair”

    The speaker begins his musings on his relationship with a woman, whom he will come to disdain, as he examines his own motives and urges.  In fact, these poems remain the dark lot of the bunch of sonnets, and likely the designation “dark” refers to moods, attitudes, and personalities rather than skin tone.

    First Quatrain: Standards in the Idealization of Women

    In the old age black was not counted fair
    Or if it were, it bore not beauty’s name;
    But now is black beauty’s successive heir,
    And beauty slander’d with a bastard’s shame:

    The speaker begins sonnet 127 by claiming that in earlier times “black” was not appreciated as “fair.”  The statement presents a paradox because “black” as a color is not fair or light; it is dark, and it would have been dark even “in the old age” or earlier times.  

    But upon reflection and awareness that the term “fair” also means pleasant, attractive, honest, or favorable, the reader understands that the speaker is referring to one or all of those qualities.

    The speaker refers to the notion that light-skinned, blonde women were held in higher esteem than dark-skinned, raven-haired women.  This fact, of course, simply reflects the part of the world where the speaker resides—in a zone where less sun would encourage less melanin production in human skin and hair.

    The object of Petrarchan sonnets “Laura” is described as fair-haired—”The hair’s bright tresses, full of golden glows” in Petrarch sonnet VII— and some of the “dark lady” sonnets protest against the idealization of women found in these and earlier highly romanticized poems.  

    The speaker thus asserts that although black used to be denigrated, now it is “beauty’s successive heir.”  But also “beauty [is] slandered with a bastard’s shame,” when cosmetics are employed to enhance any natural beauty.   

    Second Quatrain: True Beauty Must Come in an Honest Package

    For since each hand hath put on Nature’s power,
    Fairing the foul with Art’s false borrow’d face,
    Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower,
    But is profan’d, if not lives in disgrace.

    The standard for “beauty” seems to have lost its naturalness, likely because of the use of wigs and hair dye, rouges, lipsticks, and mascara.  A woman using these cosmetics can change her true hair color, and that falseness makes a “bastard” of true beauty, leaving it degraded because of its lack of honesty.

    The speaker has shown repeatedly in his earlier sonnet sequence that he is dedicated to truth.  Thus it will come as no surprise that he will rail again dishonest beauty tricks.     He decries anything artificial, as the reader has encountered in those earlier sonnets, particularly the “Muse Sonnets” 18-126; thus he now wishes to advocate for what is natural and demand that beauty be based on reality not cosmetics.

    Third Quatrain:  Fake Cannot Reflect Beauty

    Therefore my mistress’ brows are raven black,
    Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem
    At such who, not born fair, no beauty lack,
    Sland’ring creation with a false esteem:

    The speaker then introduces his lady friend as a raven-haired beauty with dark eyes, and insists that her naturalness is dark, and yet she does not lack beauty. Her beauty represents honesty.   Her beauty demolishes that notion that the fake blonde is more beautiful than the natural brunette.  

    The speaker believes that nature is slandered when attempts are made to crush naturalness into a false concept of beauty.  He disdains such actions and will condemn them at every opportunity.

    The Couplet:  Natural and Untouched Beauty

    Yet so they mourn, becoming of their woe,
    That every tongue says beauty should look so.

    The dark-haired, dark-skinned beauties do not mourn to be light-haired and light-skinned because they are able to demonstrate true, natural beauty that makes people realize that all beauty should be natural and untouched.  The speaker then asserts that natural beauty is the standard and everybody knows it.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 128  “How oft when thou, my music, music play’st”

    Sonnet 128 “How oft when thou, my music, music play’st” is purely for fun; the speaker plies his clever creativity as he dramatizes his feigned jealousy of the keyboard on which his lady is playing music for him.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 128 “How oft when thou, my music, music play’st”

    In sonnet 128 “How oft when thou, my music, music play’st,” the speaker creates a little drama, featuring his beloved lady friend playing a harpsichord.  As he watches, he feigns jealousy of the keys across which the mistress’ fingers press and glide as she performs her music.

    Sonnet 128 “How oft when thou, my music, music play’st”

    How oft when thou, my music, music play’st
    Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
    With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway’st
    The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,
    Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap
    To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,
    Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,
    At the wood’s boldness by thee blushing stand!
    To be so tickl’d, they would change their state
    And situation with those dancing chips,
    O’er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,
    Making dead wood more bless’d than living lips.
    Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,
    Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 128 “How oft when thou, my music, music play’st”

    The likability of this speaker takes a serious hit in this “Dark Lady” category of sonnets.  He panders, placates, and demeans himself as he unveils his dramatic—and likely adulterous— relationship with this woman.

    First Quatrain:   Watching the Woman Play a Harpsichord

    How oft when thou, my music, music play’st
    Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
    With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway’st
    The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,

    The speaker claims that it is quite often that when he hears and watches the woman play music for him, he notices how her “sweet fingers” move and how she “gently sway[s].”  The first quatrain does not complete his statement, but it nevertheless supplies the details that the lady is playing “upon that blessed wood,” and that her music results in “concord that [the speaker’s] ear confounds.” 

    The speaker sets up the claim with just enough detail to allow his reader/listener to observe only a snippet of the event.  By beginning his sentence, “How oft when thou, my music, music play’st,” the speaker creates ambiguity:  this construction could be a question or it could an exclamation.

    Second Quatrain:  A Joyful Exclamation!

    Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap
    To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,
    Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,
    At the wood’s boldness by thee blushing stand!

    The second quatrain completes the thought begun in the first quatrain, and the reader/listener learns that the statement is indeed an exclamation:  “how oft . . . do I envy!”  The speaker is, in fact, dramatizing his envy of the wooden keys of the instrument, probably a harpsichord, upon which his lady friend is playing.  

    He claims that he envies “those jacks” because they “nimble leap / To kiss the tender inward of [her] hand.”  While he stands helpless, imagining that his lips should be enjoying that opportunity, instead of the pieces of inert wood.

    Third Quatrain:  A Strange and Comical Exchange

    To be so tickl’d, they would change their state
    And situation with those dancing chips,
    O’er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,
    Making dead wood more bless’d than living lips.

    Comically, the speaker then fashions the image of his lips trading  places with the keys on the keyboard.  Her fingers are gently gliding over those keys, and he would prefer to have her fingers be playing over his lips.  He offers the melodramatic notion that her fingers moving over those “dancing chips” or keys is giving blessings to “dead wood” that he would assign only to “living lips.”

    The Couplet:  Clever Conclusion

    Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,
    Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.

    The speaker then offers the clever conclusion that is it fine for those “saucy jacks” to be “so happy” that his lady is moving her fingers over them, and thus the speaker will accept their happiness, and he tells his lady directly that she can give her fingers to the keyboard, but she should give the speaker her ” lips to kiss.”

    A Jolting Experience

    Moving from the “Muse Sonnet” sequence to the “Dark Lady” sequence affords a rather jarring and jolting experience.  The meditation/rumination of the “Muse Sonnets” creates a tranquility verging on divine peace that becomes so comforting in their masterful execution.

    Going from such a nearly divine state of peace to the drama of a lustful relationship with a tawdry woman leads the reader to feel cheated, debased, and haunted.  But the cleverness and the craftsmanship of the set of sonnets make their study important and necessary.  

    After all, the speaker is simply a man who despite his heavenly, God-given talent for creating dramatic literary works retains all of the vices as well as the virtues of being human.  Thus his audience must applaud where applause is warranted. 

    Shakespeare Sonnet 129 “Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame”

    Sonnet 129 “Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame” from “The Dark Lady” sequence dramatizes the evils of promiscuity, wherein sexual gratification engaged in solely out of lust results in all manner of trials and tribulations. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 129 “The expense of spirit in a waste of shame”

    The speaker in Sonnet 129 “Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence is dramatizing the pit of promiscuity, where copulation engaged in solely out of lust engenders all manner of evil consequences.  Exploring the nature of lust, he finds that urge to promote a deceptive behavior that promises “heaven” but delivers “hell.”

    Sonnet 129:  “Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame”

    Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame
    Is lust in action; and till action, lust
    Is perjur’d, murderous, bloody, full of blame,
    Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust;
    Enjoy’d no sooner but despised straight;
    Past reason hunted; and no sooner had,
    Past reason hated, as a swallow’d bait,
    On purpose laid to make the taker mad:
    Mad in pursuit, and in possession so;
    Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme;
    A bliss in proof,—and prov’d, a very woe;
    Before, a joy propos’d; behind, a dream.
    All this the world well knows; yet none knows well
    To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 129 “Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame”

    Sonnet 129 is dramatizing the degradation caused by promiscuity. The speaker reveals that all manner of evil consequences result after copulation is engaged in solely out of lust.

    First Quatrain:  The Evil Nature of Lust

    Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame
    Is lust in action; and till action, lust
    Is perjur’d, murderous, bloody, full of blame,
    Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust;

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 129, the speaker describes the nature of “lust” as “perjur’d, murderous, bloody, full of blame, / Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust.”  Jesus the Christ described Satan as 

    a murderer from the beginning, and abode not in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own: for he is a liar, and the father of it. (KJV John 8:44).

    The speaker in sonnet 129 thus echoes the Christ’s description likening “lust” to the devil, or Satan, who tempts human beings, promising happiness but delivering misery and loss.  

    Worse even than “lust” itself, however, is “lust in action,” or the sex act, which results in “Post coitum triste omni est”—”After coitus, everyone experiences gloom.”  (My translation from the Latin.)

    Second Quatrain:  Lust, the Lower Nature

    Enjoy’d no sooner but despised straight;
    Past reason hunted; and no sooner had,
    Past reason hated, as a swallow’d bait,
    On purpose laid to make the taker mad:

    The speaker then continues his indictment of lust and its concomitant action.  No sooner is the act consummated than it is “despised” immediately.  Lust rushes the human mind “past reason,” causing the aroused individual to hate what he actually knows, that as soon as he lets down his guard, he will be made “mad.”    By allowing his body to dictate to his mind what he knows intuitively, the person giving in to lust will become “as a swallow’d bait.” 

    The sex urge is a strong one, implanted in the body to ensure continuation of the human species, but after the human being allows himself to engage in that act without the purpose of procreation, he is subjugating his will to the whims of his lower nature that he is supposed to control.   The human mind knows through intuition that sex for sex’s sake is an abomination to the soul.  Wasting the life energy for sexual gratification alone is tantamount to torturing the soul.

    Third Quatrain:  Possessed by a Devil

    Mad in pursuit, and in possession so;
    Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme;
    A bliss in proof,—and prov’d, a very woe;
    Before, a joy propos’d; behind, a dream.

    The sex urge when allowed to arouse the body to action causes the individual to become “mad in pursuit” of gratification; he behaves as if possessed by a devil.  The body craving sexual congress moves in a frenzied orgy:  “Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme / A bliss in proof,—and prov’d, a very woe.” 

    The excessive desire that drives the frenzy always results in “a very woe.”  What seemed to promise “bliss,” in actuality, discharges only sorrow and remorse.  Before engaging in the promiscuous act, the one in the throes of sexual desire feels convinced that that desire is “a joy propos’d,” but after its completion, the dejected one realizes that that promise was nothing but “a dream.” 

    The Couplet:  Knowing Evil, but Failing to Avoid It

    All this the world well knows; yet none knows well
    To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.

    The speaker is clearly asserting that the human mind is fully able to understand that the sex urge must be eschewed, except for procreation.    He, therefore, insists that the whole world is aware of this fact, yet ironically, the human condition continues to replay itself, and in spite of possessing this sacred knowledge that leads to right behavior, human beings often fall pray to the erroneous promise of “the heaven that leads men to this hell.”  

    Instead of following  the advice from the soul and from great spiritual leaders and from great philosophical thinkers who have offered warnings against this depraved act, the weak individual allows him/herself to be lured into this depravity repeatedly.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 130 “My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun”

    The speaker in sonnet 130 “My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun” is playing against the Petrarchan tradition of placing the lady friend upon a pedestal to demonstrate affection. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 130 “My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun”

    The Petrarchan tradition of writing poems to women included exaggeration in order to praise her features; for example the Petrarchan line “Those eyes, the sun’s pure golden citadel” from Petrarchan sonnet LIV is obviously the one that inspires the Shakespeare line “My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun.”

    The speaker in Shakespeare sonnet 130 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence shows that he will not be comparing his love’s feature to natural things and saying she outshines them.

    This speaker, instead, will be saying quite straightforwardly that even though his lover does not always compare well with the beauties that appear in nature, he loves her just the same.  He is attempting to establish and maintain her humanity above all.

    Sonnet 130 “My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun”

    My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun
    Coral is far more red than her lips’ red:
    If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
    If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
    I have seen roses damask’d, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
    And in some perfumes is there more delight
    Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
    I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
    That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
    I grant I never saw a goddess go,—
    My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
    And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
    As any she belied with false compare.

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 130 “My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun”

    The speaker in Sonnet 130 is playing against the Petrarchan tradition of placing the lady friend upon a pedestal to demonstrate affection.  

    First Quatrain:  Her Features are Not Like Sun, Coral, Snow, or Silk

    My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun
    Coral is far more red than her lips’ red:
    If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
    If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

    The speaker begins by describing his lady friend’s eyes. They are not at all “like the sun.”  That is all he has to say about those orbs, even though much exaggeration in earlier poetry has taken place in describing the eyes of the beloved.  But this speaker quickly moves on to her lips, which are again described in the negative:  while those lips are red, they are not as red as “coral.”

    Moving on to the woman’s bustline, he finds her competing in the negative against “snow.”  While snow may actually be white, this lady’s breasts are a shade of brown, as most human skin comes in varying shades from light to dark brown.  The lady’s hair suffers the worst comparison.  

    Lovers like to attribute hair as strands of silk, but this speaker has to admit that her hair is just like “black wires,” and he offers the humorous image of black wires growing out off her scalp.

    Second Quatrain:  Her Cheeks Have no Roses, Her Breath not Like Perfume

    I have seen roses damask’d, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
    And in some perfumes is there more delight
    Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

    The speaker next focuses on his lady’s cheeks and breath.  Her cheeks are not like any rose he has experienced, especially the “red and white,” or damasked rose.  He has seen those kinds of roses, and he does not see them in her cheeks.

    The speaker has delighted in the smells of “some perfumes.”  He finds no such delightful perfume smell exhaling with the breath of his lover.  He employs the term “reek,” which  may likely be misconstrued by contemporary readers because the term “reek” in the Shakespearean era merely meant “to exhale” or “to exude.”  Currently, the term describes an odor that is decidedly unpleasant.

    Th speaker, however, does not claim that his mistress’ breath stinks; he is merely stating that her breath is not as sweet smelling as perfume.  Again, the speaker is merely stating honest, human facts about this woman for whom he maintains affection.  He is bucking the notion that exaggerating the beauty of a woman somehow offers her a tribute.  This speaker prefers truth over the fiction of hyperbole.

    Third Quatrain:  No Music in Her Voice and She Walks on the Ground

    I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
    That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
    I grant I never saw a goddess go,—
    My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:

    In the final quatrain, the speaker does what he has failed to do in the first and second quatrains.  He admits that he loves to hear his lady friend talk, but he also has to admit that even though he enjoys hearing her voice, he remains aware that her voice lacks the more “pleasing sound” of music.  Still, he seems to be making a more positive comparison than with the earlier natural phenomena he employed.  

    While she sun, coral, snow, silk, roses, and perfume all seemed to shine more brilliantly than the lady’s features, in her voice he has found something about which to state flat out that he “loves.”  Then again, he keeps his mistress treading on the earth, that is, she does not walk about as some “goddess” would do.   

    And even though he cannot attest that a goddess would walk any other way, he can say that his mistress “treads on the ground.”  And with that assertion, the speaker summarizes his notion of keeping his tribute to his lady down to earth, truthful in all aspects.

    The Couplet:  Truthful, Human Terms

    And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
    As any she belied with false compare.

    The couplet finds the speaker swearing that his love for his mistress is as “rare” as the love possessed by those who exaggerate their mistresses’ beauty.  He accuses those speakers of lying when they compare the beauty of their ladies to natural phenomena and claim that the lady’s features outshine the sun, or that she has lips redder than coral, or outrageously bright toned body parts.

    This speaker is convinced that such hyperbolic rhetoric in attempting to place the loved one a pedestal simply remains at odds with the true comparisons, and ultimately distracts from the focus on her true qualities.  

    He likely would have preferred to be addressing the positive features of the lady, but he found it necessary to refute the notion of hyperbole before addressing other, more important issues.

    The speaker is implying that he looks deeper for beauty.  His affection for his friend is based on her individuality as a human being. By describing his lady friend’s qualities in human terms, keeping his rhetoric down to earth, the speaker can still assert the rare quality of genuine affection that he feels for her.

    One of the Problem Sonnets

    Although this sonnet is grouped with the “Dark Lady” sequence, it seems to prove an anomaly because in many of the others in this group the lady does not merit such positive effusions as offered in the speaker’s claim that his “love” for her is rare.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 131 “Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art”

    Even as he defends her physical beauty, the beguiled speaker in sonnet 131 “Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art” introduces the notion of the ugly “deeds” of which the dark lady persona proves capable. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 131 “Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art”

    The speaker in sonnet 131 addresses the persona that is responsible for this group of sonnets (127-154) being labeled “the dark lady sonnets.”  Clearly, the speaker is addressing a person who has a “face” and a “neck,” unlike the supposed “young man sonnets” (18-126), which never offer any evidence of referring to a human being. 

    The speaker does seem to reveal that she is on the darker complexioned side of the spectrum, but also that she is quite a stunning beauty, whose swarthiness does not diminish her beauty.  He implies that she is as beautiful or perhaps more lovely than the standard fair-haired beauty that seems to be the popular yardstick for feminine beauty at that period of time.

    Sonnet 131 “Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art”

    Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art
    As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel;
    For well thou know’st to my dear doting heart
    Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.
    Yet, in good faith, some say that thee behold,
    Thy face hath not the power to make love groan:
    To say they err I dare not be so bold,
    Although I swear it to myself alone.
    And to be sure that is not false I swear,
    A thousand groans, but thinking on thy face,
    One on another’s neck, do witness bear
    Thy black is fairest in my judgment’s place.
    In nothing art thou black save in thy deeds,
    And thence this slander, as I think, proceeds.

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 131 “Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art”

    The “Dark Lady” sequence focuses on a woman as it continues to maintain an ambiguity as to whether the “dark” refers to her coloring—complexion, hair, eyes— or only to her behavior.

    First Quatrain:  Beautiful but Cruel

    Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art
    As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel;
    For well thou know’st to my dear doting heart
    Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.

    In the first quatrain, the speaker accuses the lady of tyrannical behavior that resembles that of those beautiful women who become cruel because of their beauty.  She thinks she has the upper hand in the relationship because she knows that he is captivated by her beauty and holds her in high regard. 

    The speaker admits that he has a “doting heart” and that to him she is “the fairest and most precious jewel.”  Such a position leaves him weak and vulnerable, making him accept her cruel behavior out of fear of losing her.  Because she is aware of his vulnerability, she is free to cause him pain with impunity.

    Second Quatrain:  Conflicted by Beauty

    Yet, in good faith, some say that thee behold,
    Thy face hath not the power to make love groan:
    To say they err I dare not be so bold,
    Although I swear it to myself alone.

    Even though the speaker has heard other people say that there is nothing special and particularly beautiful about this woman, he continues to think otherwise.  He has heard people say that she does not have “the power to make love groan.”  According to others, she is incapable of motivating the kind of reaction that other really beautiful woman may engender.

    And the speaker does not have the courage to argue with those who hold those negative opinions.  Yet even though he will not rebut those complaints to the faces of those who hold them, he “swear[s]” to himself that they are wrong and thus continues to hold his own view as the correct one.

    Third Quatrain: Intrigued by Coloring

    And to be sure that is not false I swear,
    A thousand groans, but thinking on thy face,
    One on another’s neck, do witness bear
    Thy black is fairest in my judgment’s place.

    To convince himself that he is right in thinking his lady a beauty, he insists that when thinking of “[her] face,” he may groan with love a thousand times.  He refers to her blackness as the “fairest in [his] judgment’s place.”  

    The speaker holds the dark features of the “dark lady” in highest regard, despite the prevailing standard of beauty reflected in the opinions of other people who criticize her negatively.  As he compares the complexion and hair of lighter skinned women to his “dark lady,” he finds that he remains more intrigued by her coloring.  

    The Couplet:  Beauty Is as Beauty Does

    In nothing art thou black save in thy deeds,
    And thence this slander, as I think, proceeds.

    The speaker then asserts that any negativity associated with blackness results only from the woman’s behavior. Her physical beauty does not contrast in the negative to blondes and other fair-haired women, but her callous and indifferent behavior renders her deserving to the “slander” she is receiving.  He  will not uphold the ugliness of her deeds, even though he is attracted to her natural, dark beauty.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 132 “Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me”

    In sonnet 132 “Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me,” the speaker dramatizes the dark lady’s “pretty ruth,” likening her “mourning” eyes to the sun in the morning and then in the evening.

    Introduction and Tex of Sonnet 132 “Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me”

    Addressing his dark lady, the speaker again focuses on her foul disposition, as he wishes for a better attitude from her.   He dramatizes her moods by comparing them to sunrise and sunset, and punning on the word “mourning.”  He wishes for “morning” but continues to receive “mourning” instead.

    Sonnet 132 “Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me”

    Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me
    Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain,
    Have put on black and loving mourners be,
    Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.
    And truly not the morning sun of heaven
    Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east,
    Nor that full star that ushers in the even,
    Doth half that glory to the sober west,
    As those two mourning eyes become thy face:
    O! let it then as well beseem thy heart
    To mourn for me, since mourning doth thee grace,
    And suit thy pity like in every part.
    Then will I swear beauty herself is black,
    And all they foul that thy complexion lack.

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 132 “Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me”

    The speaker employs a clever pun—mourning/morning—as he begins to reveal more clearly the dreary nature of this woman with whom he is unfortunately ensnared in an unhealthy relationship.

    First Quatrain:  The Eyes of Disdain

    Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me
    Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain,
    Have put on black and loving mourners be,
    Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.

    The speaker in the first quatrain of sonnet 132 asserts that he loves his lady’s eyes even as they look at him “with disdain.”  She wrongs him, and he suffers, but he then dramatizes his suffering by focusing on her eyes, which he claims “put on black and [become] loving mourners.”   Her eyes seem to mourn for his torment, yet they continue to gaze at him, or at his pain, with “pretty ruth.” 

    Second Quatrain:  Glorifying the Face

    And truly not the morning sun of heaven
    Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east,
    Nor that full star that ushers in the even,
    Doth half that glory to the sober west,

    The speaker then asserts that sunrise and sunset do not beautify the land so well as her “two mourning eyes” glorify her face.  The second quatrain is only part of the complete thought that continues in the third quatrain.  The thought straddles the two quatrains more for the purpose of form than for content.

    The speaker has likened the darkened landscape before sunrise to “grey cheeks,” which implies those dark cheeks of his mistress.  The sun that is “usher[ing] in” evening is a “full star,” but it offers less than “half the glory” that the lady’s eyes give to her face.

    Third Quatrain:  The Drama of Mourning

    As those two mourning eyes become thy face:
    O! let it then as well beseem thy heart
    To mourn for me, since mourning doth thee grace,
    And suit thy pity like in every part.

    The speaker labels his lady’s eyes, “those two mourning eyes,” dramatizing them with a pun on “mourning,” and then punning again in the line “since mourning doth thee grace.”  

    The pun implies the wish that the speaker projects:  he wishes this beautiful creature had the grace of “morning,” but instead she constantly delivers the characterization of “mourning.”  

    The woman’s eyes mourn for him not out of love but out of the pity she feels for him after she has caused his misery.  His humiliation is a cross that he has to bear in having a relationship with this woman.

    The Couplet:  Looking Past Pain

    Then will I swear beauty herself is black,
    And all they foul that thy complexion lack.

    In the couplet, the speaker again decides to accept the situation and even support the woman for her beauty.  Unfortunately, the idea, beauty is a beauty does, eludes this speaker, at least for now.  He will continue to look past the pain she causes him as long as he can enjoy her beauty.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 133 “Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan” 

    In sonnet 133 “Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan,” the speaker bemoans that the cruel lady has captured his heart and his alter ego, who creates his poems.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 133 “Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan”

    As the reader has experienced from sonnets 18 through 126, the speaker in sonnet 133 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence creates a persona of his soul in order to reflect upon and dramatize the activity of his talent and ambition.  

    In that section of the sonnets, the speaker variously addresses his muse, his poems, or himself—all of whom are the same entity, the only difference being the differing aspects of the same soul.  

    In this sonnet 133, the speaker is referring to his Muse-Talent-Soul as his friend, who is being affected by the dark lady’s behavior. This sonnet and the following sonnet 134 are often misinterpreted by claiming that the “he” in the poem refers to a young man who is friend of the speaker, and this friend has betrayed his speaker-friend by sleeping with his mistress the dark lady.

     For example, Helen Vendler begins her commentary on sonnet 133 by announcing:  “This sonnet of the lady’s infidelity with the speaker’s friend has driven Ingram and Redpath to a diagram and to a comparison with ‘Chines boxes’.”  

    Vendler continues with this inaccuracy in her commentary on sonnet 134:  “Sonnet 134 takes stock of the torment of the affair between the friend and the mistress announced in 133.”

    By failing to understand the actual topic of the “Muse Sonnets” as the speaker’s own soul and instead claiming that the target is a  “fair youth,” critics and scholars then continue that failure as they encounter the “Dark Lady” subsequence.

    Sonnet 133 “Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan”

    Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
    For that deep wound it gives my friend and me!
    Is ’t not enough to torture me alone,
    But slave to slavery my sweet’st friend must be?
    Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken,
    And my next self thou harder hast engross’d:
    Of him, myself, and thee, I am forsaken;
    A torment thrice threefold thus to be cross’d.
    Prison my heart in thy steel bosom’s ward,
    But then my friend’s heart let my poor heart bail;
    Whoe’er keeps me, let my heart be his guard;
    Thou canst not then use rigour in my jail:
    And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee,
    Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 133 “Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan”

    The speaker is bemoaning the fact that the cruel lady has not only captured his heart but also his alter ego, that is, his other self who creates his poems.

    First Quatrain:  Dark Lady vs the Muse

    Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
    For that deep wound it gives my friend and me!
    Is ’t not enough to torture me alone,
    But slave to slavery my sweet’st friend must be?

    The speaker brings down a curse on “that heart” of the dark lady, not only for making his heart “to groan,” but also for the “deep wound” she causes in both his “friend” and himself.  He queries, isn’t it enough that you torment me? must you also cause my muse, who is “my sweet’st friend” to suffer?

    The speaker is probably finding his musings invaded with thoughts of the mistress, and because of his intense infatuation with her, he feels his creations are suffering.   The complaint resembles the one wherein he would chide his muse for abandoning him, implying that he could not write without her, yet he continued to make poems about that very topic.

    Second Quatrain:  Triumvirate of Soul

    Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken,
    And my next self thou harder hast engross’d:
    Of him, myself, and thee, I am forsaken;
    A torment thrice threefold thus to be cross’d.

    The speaker then refers explicitly to the cruelty of the lady for affecting his muse/writing; he claims that she has taken him from himself, and also “my next self thou harder has engross’d.”  The self that is closest to him is that triumvirate of Muse-Talent-Soul, which constitutes his life, including his working life.

    When the lady disrupts the speaker’s tripartite entity, she causes him to be “forsaken” by everything and everyone:  “Of him, myself, and thee, I am forsaken.”  And he thus is “torment[ed] thrice threefold.” 

    Third Quatrain:  Begging to Keep His Own Muse

    Prison my heart in thy steel bosom’s ward,
    But then my friend’s heart let my poor heart bail;
    Whoe’er keeps me, let my heart be his guard;
    Thou canst not then use rigour in my jail:

    In the third quatrain, the speaker commands the lady to go ahead and lock him up in “[her] steel bosom’s ward,” but let him be able to extricate his muse from her clutches.  He wants to retain control over whatever his own heart “guard[s].”  He wants to keep his muse in his own “jail” so that she cannot “use rigour” in that jail.

    The Couplet: Confined and under a Spell

    And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee,
    Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.

    But the speaker contends that the lady will continue to imprison him, and because he deems that he belongs to her, all “that is in me,” including that triumvirate of Muse-Talent-Soul, also is confined in her jail and under her spell.


    Shakespeare Sonnet 134 “So, now I have confess’d that he is thine”

    The speaker in sonnet 134 “So, now I have confess’d that he is thine” descends into a vulgar discussion, lamenting the sexual attraction he suffers because of the lustful lady.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 134 “So, now I have confess’d that he is thine”

    In sonnet 134, the speaker again is addressing the dark lady, as he laments her power over his other self.  However, this “other self” is not the spiritual persona, not the muse, but very bluntly yet subtly and specifically, he is referring to his male member as “he.”  It is quite a common vulgar traditional part of coarse conversation, and both male and females engage in it, often even assigning nicknames to their private parts.

    Sonnet 134 “So, now I have confess’d that he is thine”

    So, now I have confess’d that he is thine
    And I myself am mortgag’d to thy will,
    Myself I ’ll forfeit, so that other mine
    Thou wilt restore, to be my comfort still:
    But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free,
    For thou art covetous and he is kind;
    He learn’d but surety-like to write for me,
    Under that bond that him as fast doth bind.
    The statute of thy beauty thou wilt take,
    Thou usurer, that putt’st forth all to use,
    And sue a friend came debtor for my sake;
    So him I lose through my unkind abuse.
    Him have I lost; thou hast both him and me:
    He pays the whole, and yet am I not free.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 134 “So, now I have confess’d that he is thine”

    The speaker in sonnet 134 “So, now I have confess’d that he is thine” descends into a vulgar discussion, lamenting the sexual attraction he suffers because of the lustful lady.

    First Quatrain:  Lower Nature

    So, now I have confess’d that he is thine
    And I myself am mortgag’d to thy will,
    Myself I ’ll forfeit, so that other mine
    Thou wilt restore, to be my comfort still:

    The speaker complained in sonnet 133 that the lady was imprisoning not only the speaker but also his alter ego, his soul-muse-talent.  The speaker’s identity is so closely bound with his writing that even he at times finds distinguishing them unappealing.  

    The diction of sonnet 134 however cleverly demonstrates that the speaker is referring to his lower nature or his sex drive; thus the “he” referred to here is his male organ.  He tells the lady that he has “confess’d that he is thine.”  But because the speaker cannot separate himself from this particular “he,” the speaker is also “mortgag’d to [the lady’s] will.”  

    The speaker’s sexual arousal causes his entire being to respond and bind itself to the lady.  The use of financial terms such as “mortgage” and “forfeit” imply and confirm that the speaker is complaining about physical acts instead of spiritual ones.

    The speaker says he will “forfeit” himself, his sensual self, so that he will have “restore[d]” to him his other self and his comfort.  He implies that giving in to the woman sexually will dilute the urge and he can become calm again.

    Second Quatrain:  Physical Pleasure

    But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free,
    For thou art covetous and he is kind;
    He learn’d but surety-like to write for me,
    Under that bond that him as fast doth bind.

    But then the speaker admits that engaging in physical pleasure with her will not free him from her clutches, because she is “covetous.”  He knows he will give in to her again.  His male member has “learn’d but surety-like to write for me, / Under that bond that him as fast doth bind.”  That male organ “write[s]” for or creates in the speaker the motivation that will urge them both to cling to the woman.

    Third Quatrain:  The Diction of Desire

    The statute of thy beauty thou wilt take,
    Thou usurer, that putt’st forth all to use,
    And sue a friend came debtor for my sake;
    So him I lose through my unkind abuse.

    The lady will continue to flaunt her beauty to keep the speaker and his male member desirous of her.  Again the speaker employs diction that indicates the material, worldly nature of his discourse:  “the statute” of her beauty, “thou usurer,” “sue a friend came debtor”—all employ legal and/or financial terms that clearly join the speaker’s conversation to worldly endeavors.

    The speaker then admits that he lost control over his base urges “through [his] unkind abuse,” that is, he allowed his attention to fall below the waist.  He allowed his attraction for the woman’s beauty to stir in him the desire to satisfy the drives that are meant for the sacred purpose of marriage consummation and reproduction, not mere entertainment.

    The Couplet: Lamenting Loss of Self-Control

    Him have I lost; thou hast both him and me:
    He pays the whole, and yet am I not free.

    The speaker then laments, “Him have I lost,” meaning that he has lost control over his male organ.  He tells the woman that she possesses both him and his copulatory organ, and while the latter “pays the whole,” punning on “hole,” he is certainly not free but is right there with that body part.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 135 “Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will”

    Sonnet 135 “Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will” and sonnet 136 “If thy soul check thee that I come so near” both focus intensely on punning the word “Will.”  The poet, Edward de Vere, uses the nickname “Will” from his pseudonym, William Shakespeare.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 135 “Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will”

    The word “will” here means primarily desire, and because the speaker is addressing the object of his intense sexual desire, he conflates his desire with his pseudonym nickname “Will” with “will” meaning desire into a clever pun.  

    Sonnet 135 “Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will”

    Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will
    And Will to boot, and Will in over-plus;
    More than enough am I that vex thee still,
    To thy sweet will making addition thus.
    Wilt thou, whose will is large and spacious,
    Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine?
    Shall will in others seem right gracious,
    And in my will no fair acceptance shine?
    The sea, all water, yet receives rain still,
    And in abundance addeth to his store;
    So thou, being rich in Will, add to thy Will
    One will of mine, to make thy large Will more.
    Let no unkind ‘No’ fair beseechers kill;
    Think all but one, and me in that one Will.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 135 “Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will”

    The speaker is cleverly punning on his nom de plume William Shakespeare.

    First Quatrain:  Her Strong Desire

    Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will
    And Will to boot, and Will in over-plus;
    More than enough am I that vex thee still,
    To thy sweet will making addition thus.

    In the opening quatrain of sonnet 135, the speaker tells his dark, attractive mistress that while many other comely women may have mere wishes, she has a strong wish; she has “Will.”  The term “will” carries the idea of desire or wish but with an intention, making it a much stronger wish.  

    A mere “wish” may never be acted upon, but a “will” probably will.  The expression “the will to live”  as opposed to “the wish to live” may help in comprehending the difference, that “will” is stronger than “wish.”

    The speaker appears to believe that he is flattering the dark lady by informing her she has the same sexual desire that he has, and he also is thus flattering his own ego by telling her that not only does she have the same carnal desire, she also possesses him and his desire.  To his mind, she is therefore thrice blessed:  she owns her own “will,” she possesses his “will,” and she possesses him, who is “Will” itself.

    Second Quatrain:  Adding Insult to Flattery

    Wilt thou, whose will is large and spacious,
    Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine?
    Shall will in others seem right gracious,
    And in my will no fair acceptance shine?

    In the second quatrain, the speaker adds insult to flattery, but at least he frames it as questions:  in the first question, he asks her outright for her physical favors.  Avoiding euphemism, he asks her to “vouchsafe to hide my will in thine.”  He then accuses her of promiscuity, which he seeks to offer as an excuse for his own lechery.  He reasons that because she satisfies her “will” with others, there can be no reason that she should not do so with him. 

    Third Quatrain: Rationalizing the Irrational

    The sea, all water, yet receives rain still,
    And in abundance addeth to his store;
    So thou, being rich in Will, add to thy Will
    One will of mine, to make thy large Will more.

    Seeking to further rationalize the efficacy of the couple’s wills coming together, the speaker compares their wills to the ocean that is “all water,” and still it continues to accept more in the form of rain.  The speaker professes that it is a good thing that “abundance addeth to his store.”  

    Seeing that the woman is full of desire, and the speaker is full of desire, the speaker adduces that the combination of all that desire can only multiply the advantages to be had by their coming together to satisfy themselves.  

    The speaker is dramatizing his total immersion in thoughts of the act that he had disdained.  He is demonstrating the demonic hold that this worldly “will” has on him and by extension, humankind.

    The Couplet: Fumbling About in a Notion

    Let no unkind ‘No’ fair beseechers kill;
    Think all but one, and me in that one Will.

    The speaker closes his request by commanding the woman not to turn him down.  He insists that his plea is “fair,” and he believes or pretends to fumble about in the idea that he has been perfectly persuasive in his dramatization of desire.  

    He maintains that she should “think all but one, and me in that one Will.”  He encourages her to think only of the unity of their strong desires as she includes him in that desire.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 136 “If thy soul check thee that I come so near”

    As with sonnet 135 “Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will,” the speaker continues his word play by punning on his pseudonymic nickname Will, dramatizing his lust for the alluring dark lady. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 136 “If thy soul check thee that I come so near”

    In sonnets 135 and 136, the speaker became intoxicated with punning his pen name, “Will.”  This section of the sonnet sequence seems to suggest that the speaker has nicknamed his penis, “Will.”  

    Thus there are at least three wills involved with these sonnets:  William Shakespeare, the writer’s pseudonym, the will or desire to write or in the “Dark Lady” section to commit adultery, and the instrument through by the speaker would commit the adultery.

    The tongue-in-cheek cattiness with which the speaker has glommed onto the term, “Will,” seems to suggest that his playfulness has gotten the better of him.  He becomes willing to say outrageous things, that even though clever, still would render him a scurrilous cad.  Nevertheless, the drama must proceed, and thus it does.

    Sonnet 136 “If thy soul check thee that I come so near”

    If thy soul check thee that I come so near
    Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy Will,
    And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there;
    Thus far for love, my love-suit, sweet, fulfil.
    Will will fulfil the treasure of thy love,
    Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one.
    In things of great receipt with ease we prove
    Among a number one is reckon’d none:
    Then in the number let me pass untold,
    Though in thy stores’ account I one must be;
    For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold
    That nothing me, a something sweet to thee:
    Make but my name thy love, and love that still,
    And then thou lov’st me,—for my name is Will.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 136 “If thy soul check thee that I come so near”

     The speaker continues his exercise in punning on his pseudonymic nickname Will.

    First Quatrain:  He Is Her Will

    If thy soul check thee that I come so near
    Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy Will,
    And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there;
    Thus far for love, my love-suit, sweet, fulfil.

    Addressing the voluptuous mistress again, the speaker admonishes her that if her conscience has any qualms about his desire for her, she should tell that unthinking conscience that he is her “Will.”  

    He is her desire for him, and his name is Will.  Because he deems that he is her possession, he concludes that her conscience will understand that he is permitted to be “admitted there,” or into her body.

    It is “for love” that he becomes a suitor in order to “fulfil” the desires of the lady—her lust, and his own lustful desires.  He is, of course, rationalizing his lust again, but this time focusing more squarely on her own lust than his.  He is somewhat an innocent who is merely willing to accompany the lady on her journey to lust fulfillment, he playfully suggests.

    Second Quatrain: Will and Desire

    Will will fulfil the treasure of thy love,
    Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one.
    In things of great receipt with ease we prove
    Among a number one is reckon’d none:

    The speaker then predicts that he, or “Will,” is going to “fulfil the treasure of [her] love,” or simply satisfy her desires.  Not only satisfy, but “fill it full with wills,” referring her to the sperm he is capable of leaving inside her vaginal cavity, after having completed his act, which he calls, “my will one.”  

    The speaker’s penis may be only one, but his sperm contains multitudes.  The male penchant for braggadocio has overtaken this speaker in sonnets 135 and 136.  His overpowering lust has rendered him a satyric fop.  Then he philosophizes that it is always easy to accomplish things from which one thinks one will receive much pleasure.

    Third Quatrain:  A Token of Lust

    Then in the number let me pass untold,
    Though in thy stores’ account I one must be;
    For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold
    That nothing me, a something sweet to thee:

    The speaker then concludes that since he has made much sense of his explanation, she should go ahead and allow him to join all the others she has tempted and tasted, even though he will be counted as only one.  She should allow him one more bit of wise counsel:  even if she will not desire to keep him in her company, she could at least retain one token of him, “a something sweet to [her].”  

    The Couplet:  The Will to Pun

    Make but my name thy love, and love that still,
    And then thou lov’st me,—for my name is Will.

    The token of sweetness, the speaker hopes, will simply be his name. And if his name were James or Edward, the last remark would remain unremarkable in its literalness.  But the speaker has gone out of his way to pun the term “will” and to associate it with his name “Will,” driving home the fact that when he utters that term, he is referring to lust, whether his own or hers.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 137 “Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes”

    Employing the technique of the well-placed question, the speaker in sonnet 137 “Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes” muses on the evil consequences from acting upon what the eye sees instead of what the heart knows to be true.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 137 “Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes”

    In sonnet 137 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker muses and bemoans the contradictory falsehood that lust engenders between his eyes and his heart.  The speaker sees yet he sees not.  And through his distorted vision, his heart becomes corrupted.  Such a situation cannot remain unattended by this speaker.  

    His has demonstrated his fealty to truth and beauty as he mused on his special talent in his thematic grouping, “The Muse Sonnets.”  His strong desire to remain right-thinking will not allow him to continue to wallow in sense pleasure that leads him into degradation and sorrow.

    Sonnet 137 “Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes”

    Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes
    That they behold, and see not what they see?
    They know what beauty is, see where it lies,
    Yet what the best is take the worst to be.
    If eyes, corrupt by over-partial looks,
    Be anchor’d in the bay where all men ride,
    Why of eyes’ falsehood hast thou forged hooks,
    Whereto the judgment of my heart is tied?
    Why should my heart think that a several plot
    Which my heart knows the wide world’s common place?
    Or mine eyes, seeing this, say this is not,
    To put fair truth upon so foul a face?
    In things right true my heart and eyes have err’d,
    And to this false plague are they now transferr’d.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 137 “Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes”

    The speaker in Sonnet 137 is attempting to work out the disparity between what his eye sees and what his heart tells him is correct.  His eye has led him to experience evil consequences.

    First Quatrain:  Love and Lust

    Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes
    That they behold, and see not what they see?
    They know what beauty is, see where it lies,
    Yet what the best is take the worst to be.

    Instead of speaking to his lady-love directly as he usually does in the thematic group called “Dark Lady Sonnets,” the speaker is revealing the falseness and foulness of her character, as he speaks directly to “Love.”  He is employing the term “Love” euphemistically; his drama depicting the relationship between his heart and his eyes demonstrates that he is in reality addressing “lust.” 

    The speaker appends his first question, as he often does in this kind of musing.  He wishes to know what “Love” does to him to make his eyes not see appropriately.  He labels “Love” the “blind fool,” as he makes it clear that he is, indeed, the “blind fool.”  

    He cannot comprehend that his eyes would betray him; he feels that he is aware of what beauty is, yet when he chances to meet this particular woman, he always manages to become bumfuzzled by her physical beauty.

    Second Quatrain:  Evil vs Good

    If eyes, corrupt by over-partial looks,
    Be anchor’d in the bay where all men ride,
    Why of eyes’ falsehood hast thou forged hooks,
    Whereto the judgment of my heart is tied?

    The speaker then begs the logic of “eyes” being placed “in the bay where all men ride,” or, he wants to know why should physical appearance to which he has become so favorably drawn render his genitals to flutter in an agitated state.   Even more so, he wishes to know why the lie told by his lying eyes is permitted to crook the “judgment of [his] heart.”  

    The speaker is examining the old riddle of the human tendency to want the exact thing that is not beneficial, the very thing, which after promising much pleasure and joy, will do the human mind, heart, and soul the most damage.

    Third Quatrain:  Swayed by Outward Beauty

    Why should my heart think that a several plot
    Which my heart knows the wide world’s common place?
    Or mine eyes, seeing this, say this is not,
    To put fair truth upon so foul a face?

    The speaker continues to muse on these questions:  he desires to know why his heart can be moved by a woman who behaves as a contemptible harlot.  He wonders why he permits an alluring face that he knows is “foul” to tempt him as if it were a representation of “fair truth.” 

    The speaker is again supplying answers to his own rhetorical questions, even as he poses them.  The conundrum of human behavior always reveals that that behavior swings like a pendulum between evil and good.  

    His eyes see only the outward beauty, while his mind knows otherwise.  But his heart has been swayed by the outward beauty even as it senses that such beauty is only skin deep, and the inner person of this wretched woman is full of deceit. 

    The Couplet: Bamboozled Error

    In things right true my heart and eyes have err’d,
    And to this false plague are they now transferr’d.

    The speaker concludes that his eyes and thus his heart have been bamboozled; therefore, they become erroneous prone. He leaves the sonnet still distressed in his sickening situation, asserting that his eyes and heart, and therefore his mind, have been afflicted by a disastrous level of falsehood.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 138 “When my love swears that she is made of truth”

    The speaker in sonnet 138 “When my love swears that she is made of truth” makes a mockery of truth in a relationship, even as he offers a feeble defense of indefensible actions and thought.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 138 “When my love swears that she is made of truth”

    Readers familiar with this speaker’s devotion to truth as portrayed in his “Muse Sonnets” may find the falsity on which this sonnet sequence focuses a bit jarring.  But if one notes carefully, the poet/speaker is quite aware of his allowing himself to be deceived, and he thus makes it clear that he is obviously just playing along to satisfy his lustful needs that he knows do not represent his higher self.

    Sonnet 138 “When my love swears that she is made of truth”

    When my love swears that she is made of truth
    I do believe her, though I know she lies,
    That she might think me some untutor’d youth,
    Unlearned in the world’s false subtleties.
    Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
    Although she knows my days are past the best,
    Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue:
    On both sides thus is simple truth supprest.
    But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
    And wherefore say not I that I am old?
    O! love’s best habit is in seeming trust,
    And age in love loves not to have years told:
    Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,
    And in our faults by lies we flatter’d be.

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    Commentary on “When my love swears that she is made of truth”

    At the same time that this speaker in sonnet 138 is making a mockery of truth in a relationship by offering a feeble defense of indefensible actions and thought, he is still polishing a fascinating drama of entertainment.  Likely the speaker in this sequence is more than ever separating himself from the ludicrous milksop he is creating of himself because of this disgraceful woman.

    First Quatrain:  A WilledDeception

    When my love swears that she is made of truth
    I do believe her, though I know she lies,
    That she might think me some untutor’d youth,
    Unlearned in the world’s false subtleties.

    The speaker in Shakespeare’s Sonnet 138 spills forth the bizarre admission that when his adulterous mistress assures him of her fidelity and truthfulness, he seems to accept her word on the issue.  

    However, he knows she is spewing a bald-faced lie.  And the speaker then makes it abundantly clear that he is merely pretending to accept her prevarication.  In actuality, he has become well aware that he cannot believe what she says, and he is convinced that she merely deals in deceitful claims. 

    Nevertheless, the duped lover then confesses to being a liar himself.  He would like to have her believe that he is as immature and unsophisticated as any young man.  He therefore feigns acceptance of  her lies, in order to cause her to accept the pretense that he is younger than he actually is.

    Second Quatrain:  Age-Old Vanity

    Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
    Although she knows my days are past the best,
    Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue:
    On both sides thus is simple truth supprest.

    In the second quatrain, the speaker condenses all the prevarication and falsifying on both sides.   He has become aware that she is aware that he is not actually a young man. He is not in the prime of his life, so he admits that his pretense remains in vain.  

    She is not really accepting the notion that he is a young man, anymore than he is accepting that she is a faithful love interest.  They both are exaggerating and lying all for the sake of their stupid, licentious, silly game.

    Third Quatrain: Deceptive Rationalization

    But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
    And wherefore say not I that I am old?
    O! love’s best habit is in seeming trust,
    And age in love loves not to have years told:

    In the third quatrain, the speaker attempts to rationalize the deceptions each partner has engaged, as he concocts the absurd notion that “love’s best habit is in seeming trust.”  But this speaker is fashioning a character, feigning a belief in what the poet/speaker knows to be false.

    The poet/speaker understands the value of truth because he is, in fact, a mature man, who has learned that such pretended “trust” is not trust whatsoever.  Such lovers as these cannot ever trust each other, because each is aware that the other is merely fabricating.

    Couplet:  Pun on a Lie

    Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,
    And in our faults by lies we flatter’d be.

    Finally, the couplet cannot bestow any hope of correcting this anomaly.  It can show only that the relationship between these two counterfeiters is based only on sexual gratification:  “I lie with her and she with me.”  

    The speaker puns on the term “lie.”  He has made it quite clear that these fake lovers “lie” to each other, and thus when he reports that they lie “with” each other, he is referring only to their sexual liaison, that is, reposing in bed as sexual partners.

    The speaker claims that they are “flattered” by this farcical relationship.  But because flattery is not a strong foundation on which to create a relationship, the speaker allows the reader to decide whether that relationship is a sad one—despite the gay glee that they may experience as they “lie” together and then lay each other.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 139 “O! Call not me to justify the wrong”

    In sonnet 139 “O! Call not me to justify the wrong,” again addressing the “dark lady,” the speaker bemoans and condemns her infidelity, as the tension grows between his desire and his intelligence. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 139 “O! Call not me to justify the wrong”

    The speaker continues to allow himself to be made a blithering fool by this woman.  She even rebuffs him so that his enemies can insult him.  This speaker, who treasures truth, beauty, and love seems to have become a whimpering nitwit because of this woman’s physically attractive body.

    The drama that this speaker continues to create reveals more about him than he even realizes.  By allowing himself this weakness, he may be putting his own reputation in jeopardy.  As a truth-teller, he has certainly lowered his vision by allowing such a despicable creature to control him.  

    Sonnet 139 “O! Call not me to justify the wrong”

    O! Call not me to justify the wrong
    That thy unkindness lays upon my heart;
    Wound me not with thine eye, but with thy tongue:
    Use power with power, and slay me not by art.
    Tell me thou lovest elsewhere; but in my sight,
    Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside:
    What need’st thou wound with cunning, when thy might
    Is more than my o’erpress’d defence can bide?
    Let me excuse thee: ah! my love well knows
    Her pretty looks have been my enemies;
    And therefore from my face she turns my foes,
    That they elsewhere might dart their injuries:
    Yet do not so; but since I am near slain,
    Kill me outright with looks, and rid my pain.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 139 “O! Call not me to justify the wrong”

    Addressing the “dark lady,” the speaker bemoans and condemns her infidelity, as the tension grows between his desire and his intelligence.

    First Quatrain:  Coy Flirting

    O! Call not me to justify the wrong
    That thy unkindness lays upon my heart;
    Wound me not with thine eye, but with thy tongue:
    Use power with power, and slay me not by art.

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 139, the speaker addresses the “dark lady” pleading with her not to hurt him in such open and offending ways.  He prefers that she just tell him plainly what is on her mind, instead of coyly flirting with others in his presence.  He does not believe that he should have to excuse and defend himself for feeling the pain she causes by her disingenuousness.  

    The speaker wants an honest and open exchange between the two; his disposition requires exactitude, but he is discovering repeatedly that this lady is not capable of satisfying his wishes for plain truth.  

    Second Quatrain:  Stinging in an Unholy Alliance

    Tell me thou lovest elsewhere; but in my sight,
    Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside:
    What need’st thou wound with cunning, when thy might
    Is more than my o’erpress’d defence can bide?

    In the second quatrain, the speaker commands her to tell him that, “[she] loves[ ] elsewhere.”  The reader has encountered this complaint in many of the “dark lady” sonnets, and it becomes apparent that her flaw will continue to sting the speaker if he continues in this unholy alliance with her.

    In addition to a command, the speaker attaches a question, wondering why she has to “wound with cunning,” and he confesses a grave weakness that renders him a weasel as he whines that the strength of her continued infidelity overtakes his ability to defend himself against it. 

    Third Quatrain:   Engaging His Enemies

    Let me excuse thee: ah! my love well knows
    Her pretty looks have been my enemies;
    And therefore from my face she turns my foes,
    That they elsewhere might dart their injuries:

    The speaker with sarcasm insists that she would have him excuse her, knowing that it is her beauty, not her fine personality or intelligence that has captured his attention, a turn of events that the speaker knows to be inimical to his best interests.  He knows it is her physical appearance that has been his worst enemy.

    The speaker then avers that she has engaged his enemies, but he would have her behave in such a way that would allow “[his] foes” to spray their venom somewhere else, and not in his direction.  

    However, he knows he cannot trust her to listen to his commands and questions, but he seems compelled to engage her despite his desire to save himself from more humiliation and pain.

    The Couplet:  Throwing up His hands

    Yet do not so; but since I am near slain,
    Kill me outright with looks, and rid my pain.

    The speaker then throws up his hands again in despair, remarking that since he has  been nearly vanquished with the pain she has already caused, she might as will continue to stab him in the heart and “Kill [him] outright with looks.”  If she can once and for all accomplish his death, at least he will experience the end of “[his] pain.”

    Shakespeare Sonnet 140:  “Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press”

    The speaker in sonnet Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press” suffers from his conscious denial: he knows the “dark lady” is not true to him, but his infatuation with her causes him to ask her to feign fidelity.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 140 “Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press”

    Again, the speaker in this “Dark Lady” sonnet category is fighting a losing battle with this woman.  He continues to debase himself by begging her to behave in ways that are obviously quite foreign to her.  

    Begging someone to fake their feelings for the sake of a pretend relationship cannot but hold despair and loss for the beggar.  But until that gloomy time when he can take it no longer, he continues to enjoy his little dramas, which continue unabated, and in reality, he is likely continuing the relationship in order to collect firewood for his burning creativity.

    Sonnet 140 “Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press”

    Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press
    My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain;
    Lest sorrow lend me words, and words express
    The manner of my pity-wanting pain.
    If I might teach thee wit, better it were,
    Though not to love, yet, love, to tell me so;—
    As testy sick men, when their deaths be near,
    No news but health from their physicians know;—
    For, if I should despair, I should grow mad,
    And in my madness might speak ill of thee:
    Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad,
    Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be.
    That I may not be so, nor thou belied,
    Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide.

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 140 “Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press”

    The speaker is attempting to keep his anger in check; thus he creates a little drama wherein he beseeches his paramour to at least pretend to be civil to him.

    First Quatrain:  Patience Is Wearing Thin

    Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press
    My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain;
    Lest sorrow lend me words, and words express
    The manner of my pity-wanting pain.

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 140, the speaker, addresses the “dark lady,” insisting that she refrain from straining his patience with her cruelty and disdain.  He suggests that if she continues in her hateful actions, he will be forced to lash out at her.  Heretofore, he has remained “tongue-tied” and holding his emotions in check for her sake.

    If she will not take his advice to be as “wise” as she is “cruel,” his “sorrow” will motivate him to untie that tongue and express his suppressed pain, and he will let loose without pity for her feelings.  He reveals that his “patience” is wearing thin and cautions her lest she suffer his wrath.  The reader will snicker at these threats, wondering, ‘what is he going to do?  talk her to death’.

    Second Quatrain:  A Sick Man

    If I might teach thee wit, better it were,
    Though not to love, yet, love, to tell me so;—
    As testy sick men, when their deaths be near,
    No news but health from their physicians know;—

    The speaker, as he remains quite civil, does get in a zinger or two here and there.  With a condescending remark—”If I might teach thee wit”— he is implying that she is simply too dull-witted to be taught wit or anything else by him.  

    If, however, by chance, he were able to teach her to be a smart woman, it would be better that they were not involved as lovers.  But because they are engaged in a relationship—however, licentious it may be—he is insisting that she simply must tell him what she means, as he remains unable to comprehend her lies and obfuscating circumlocution.

    The speaker then likens his feelings for her to a sick man who can only hear good health news from his doctor.  He feels no compunction for admitting that he remains in denial because of his continuing lust for his mistress.

    Third Quatrain:  Worldly Appetite for Gossip

    For, if I should despair, I should grow mad,
    And in my madness might speak ill of thee:
    Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad,
    Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be.

    The speaker then tells the woman that he would become mentally unstable if he sank into “despair.”  And from that “madness,” he “might speak ill of [her].”  He then evaluates the world in general claiming that it has “grown so bad”; it plucks evil from every corner.  

    The speaker does not want to become a “mad slanderer[ ],” because he thinks that the world would believe him even though he knows he would probably be exaggerating.    He is warning her that if he does eventually explode and start denouncing the woman, her reputation will be further diminished because of the world’s appetite for gossip.

    The Couplet:  Protesting for the Impossible

    That I may not be so, nor thou belied,
    Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide.

    The speaker then concludes that if the lady will just keep her eyes on him for a change, he will not have to become this raving madman railing against her.  Even if she continues to flirt and carouse with others, if she will just keep her “eyes straight,” in the presence of others, he will overlook the fact that her straight eyes belie her “proud heart” that roams wide.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 141 “In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes”

    The speaker in sonnet 141 “In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes” taunts the “dark lady,” demeaning her looks, decrying her ability to attract him physically, yet insisting that he foolishly remains in her clutches.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 141 “In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes”

    The speaker’s attitude toward the beauty of the “dark lady” has dramatically changed in sonnet 141 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence; until now, he has complained heartily about his bewitchment by the lady’s dark beauty and its fatal attraction for him.  Now, he throws all that to the wind.  However, sonnet 130 had given a foreshadowing of this attitude.

    Sonnet 141 “In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes”

    In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes
    For they in thee a thousand errors note;
    But ’tis my heart that loves what they despise,
    Who, in despite of view, is pleas’d to dote.
    Nor are mine ears with thy tongue’s tune delighted;
    Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone,
    Nor taste, nor smell desire to be invited
    To any sensual feast with thee alone:
    But my five wits nor my five senses can
    Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
    Who leaves unsway’d the likeness of a man,
    Thy proud heart’s slave and vassal wretch to be:
    Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
    That she that makes me sin awards me pain.

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 141 “In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes”

    The speaker is taunting the “dark lady” by demeaning her looks and denying her ability to attract him physically, yet at the same time insisting that he foolishly remains allured by her.

    First Quatrain:   Not so Easy on the Eyes

    In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes
    For they in thee a thousand errors note;
    But ’tis my heart that loves what they despise,
    Who, in despite of view, is pleas’d to dote.

    The speaker addresses the mistress again, telling her that, in fact, she is not really that easy on the eyes, and his eyes detect “a thousand errors” in her appearance.  But even as his eyes “despise” what they see, his “heart” loves her “despite of view.”  And therefore he is “pleas’d to dote” on her.

    This seeming change of heart could merely be a ploy, simply another attempt to halt the woman’s infidelity.  He might be attempting to end her hold on him.  He knows that she is vain about her appearance as well as her personality.

    And thus he is likely attempting to use reverse psychology to encourage  her to be more attentive to him.  If she comes to believe that he does not actually appreciate her for her looks, he could possibly break off with her before she can break up with him.

    Second Quatrain:  Not so Pleasing to the Senses

    Nor are mine ears with thy tongue’s tune delighted;
    Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone,
    Nor taste, nor smell desire to be invited
    To any sensual feast with thee alone:

    The speaker then continues his denigration of the woman’s attributes.  He does not even care that much for the sound of her voice.  As a matter of fact, he tells her, she does not particularly please any of his senses.  

    In sonnet 130, he demonstrates how she does not compare favorably with a goddess, but now he notes that she does not compare well with other women.  His senses of hearing, touch, taste, and smell are as unmoved by her as his sense of sight is.

    Third Quatrain:  Reduced to Less Than a Man

    But my five wits nor my five senses can
    Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
    Who leaves unsway’d the likeness of a man,
    Thy proud heart’s slave and vassal wretch to be:

    Despite the negative knowledge communicated to him by his five senses, his “foolish heart” cannot stop itself “from serving [her].”  Because he has become her love slave, he hardly still resembles “the likeness of a man.”  He is a disgusting human vessel and not a real man at all.

    The Couplet:  The Pain of Sin

    Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
    That she that makes me sin awards me pain.

    All he receives from this relationship is a “plague.”  She motivates him to sin, and all he gets out of it “pain.”  He is taunting her, as he feigns his displeasure with your looks, but he is also quite serious as he bemoans the lustful relationship in which he seems to be inexorably tangled. 

    The speaker’s sense of worthlessness in the face of committing these adulterous sins with this woman is making him see her what she is—a disgraceful trollop.  Her qualities, which under more pleasant circumstances might be deemed pleasant or even beautiful, are diminished by the reality of her dark heart and unseemly behavior.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 142 “Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate”

    The speaker in sonnet 142 “Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate” employs financial and legal metaphors to denounce the sins of the dark lady, as he accounts for his own sins against his soul.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 142 “Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate”

    The speaker continues to cajole this woman into treating him with some semblance of kindness.  His legal and financial metaphors fit the severity of his tone as well as the dramatic importance of the suffering of his sad heart.  He seems to know that a day of reckoning is coming to both of them, as he continues to beg her to abandon her evil ways.  

    Sonnet 142 “Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate”

    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 profan’d their scarlet ornaments
    And seal’d false bonds of love as oft as mine,
    Robb’d 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!

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 142 “Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate”

    The speaker in sonnet 142 employs financial and legal metaphors to denounce the sins of the dark lady, as he accounts for his own sins against his soul.

    First Quatrain:  Sad State of an Affair

    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;

    In sonnet 142, addressing the mistress, the speaker is again complaining about the sad state of their affair.  He chortles that his sin is love, a term he uses as a euphemism for lust.  Yet as bad as his sin is, the sin of the mistress is worse because she is guilty of just plain “hate,” which he also euphemizes by qualifying the phrase with a sarcastic “dear virtue.” 

    Then the speaker exclaims, “O!,” and commands her to compare the sins, which he calls their “state” and insists that the comparison will reveal his state superior to hers.  At least he can euphemize his lust and call it “love”; she cannot convert hate into love, regardless of her disingenuousness.

    Second Quatrain:  Accusations

    Or, if it do, not from those lips of thine,
    That have profan’d their scarlet ornaments
    And seal’d false bonds of love as oft as mine,
    Robb’d others’ beds’ revenues of their rents.

    This clever speaker then offers to suggest an alternative scenario:  if she concludes the comparison and still prevaricates with her very self-same mouth, it is because her lips have made a mockery of their red decoration.  Again, he appears to be accusing her of yielding up herself promiscuously to others:  she has “seal’d false bond” with other men, to whom he lies as often as she lies with him. (Pun intended.)  

    The woman has “[r]obb’d others’ beds’ revenues of their rents.”  This metaphoric drama likely is a thinly veiled accusation of prostitution.  This speaker seems to be dragging his heart and mind through the mud for this woman, and she still treats him with disdain, which he undoubtedly realizes he has earned.

    Third Quatrain:  Breaking Spiritual Laws

    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.

    The speaker speculates that if what she is doing is legal, then his desire for her is also legal.  This conjecture is a pretentious way of stating what the speaker already knows:  that their relationship is not “lawful.”  He is breaking spiritual laws that will keep his soul in bondage, and he knows it.  

    The clever speaker is sure that she does not know this, because she is bound tightly to worldliness.  So he offers his conditional ploy in order to suggest that she should, therefore, take pity on him; after all, there may come a time when she will also long for pity.

    The Couplet:  The Law of Karma

    If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide,
    By self-example mayst thou be denied!

    Finally, the speaker asserts that if the woman fails to pity him and remove his pain and suffering in their relationship, she will eventually find herself in the same position he is.  She will be denied all pity and comfort as she has denied him.  He is admonishing her that her chickens will come home to roost.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 143 “Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch”

    In an uproariously funny drama, the speaker likens himself to a naughty baby who chases and cries for his mother after she speeds off to fetch a fleeing chicken.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 143 “Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch”

    The speaker in sonnet 143 “Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch” uses a complex structure of adverbial clauses to express his notion that as a housewife runs after her fleeing bird (first quatrain), while her infant tries to follow her and wails after her (second quatrain), thus he behaves toward to his dark beauty (third quatrain); therefore, he will make a plea (couplet).

    Sonnet 143 “Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch”

    Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch
    One of her feather’d creatures broke away,
    Sets down her babe, and makes all quick dispatch
    In pursuit of the thing she would have stay;
    Whilst her neglected child holds her in chase,
    Cries to catch her whose busy care is bent
    To follow that which flies before her face,
    Not prizing her poor infant’s discontent:
    So runn’st thou after that which flies from thee,
    Whilst I thy babe chase thee afar behind;
    But if thou catch thy hope, turn back to me,
    And play the mother’s part, kiss me, be kind;
    So will I pray that thou mayst have thy Will,
    If thou turn back and my loud crying still.

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 143 “Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch”

    The speaker is likening himself to a naughty baby who chases and cries for his mother after she speeds off to fetch a fleeing chicken.

    First Quatrain:  A Chase Scene

    Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch
    One of her feather’d creatures broke away,
    Sets down her babe, and makes all quick dispatch
    In pursuit of the thing she would have stay;

    The speaker creates a dramatic scene in which a housewife/mother begins to run after one of her chickens that has managed to escape the coop and is fleeing to parts unknown.  The housewife/mother, plops down her infant and quickly speeds off in quest of the chicken.

    The first quatrain offers only one complex clause of the complex sentence of which this sonnet is composed.  An entanglement of grammatical and technical elements often pops up in this speaker’s discourse, and his dexterity in sorting them out supplies the evidence that his appraisal of his writing talent is not mere braggadocio in the earlier sonnets.

    Second Quatrain:  Wailing after His Mother

    Whilst her neglected child holds her in chase,
    Cries to catch her whose busy care is bent
    To follow that which flies before her face,
    Not prizing her poor infant’s discontent:

    The unfortunate child is then attempting to catch the mother and goes wailing after her as she runs after the bird.  The child keeps his eye peeled on the  mother, who is hell-bent on retrieving the bird.  Although the child is heartbroken while the mother runs after the critter, the mother is hardly cognizant of her baby at all, because she so covets recovery of the chicken.

    Third Quatrain:  Hilarious Dramatic Comparison

    So runn’st thou after that which flies from thee,
    Whilst I thy babe chase thee afar behind;
    But if thou catch thy hope, turn back to me,
    And play the mother’s part, kiss me, be kind;

    In the third quatrain, the speaker then spits out his comparison:  the dark mistress plays the role of the mother, while the speaker portrays “[her] babe.”  The woman continues to fly from the arms of the speaker, chasing the affection of other men.  

    But the speaker, even as he offers his hilarious dramatic comparison, also hopes to soften the woman’s heart by asserting that the mother will eventually return to her babe and shower him with kisses and be kind to him.  He is urging the lady to behave similarly towards him.

    The Couplet:  Punning His Nom de Plume

    So will I pray that thou mayst have thy Will,
    If thou turn back and my loud crying still.

    The speaker has become so enamored of his “Will” pun that he exploits it again in this sonnet.  He will “pray” that the woman “may[ ] have [her] Will.”  Punning on his pseudonym, he claims he is praying that she achieve her wishes by returning to him.  

    Whatever she is chasing, whether sexual gratification or vanity of some sort, the speaker tries to assure her that he can fulfill her desires, if only she will “turn back” to him and stop his “crying” for her.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 144 “Two loves I have of comfort and despair”

    In sonnet 144 “Two loves I have of comfort and despair,” the speaker is examining the ambiguity of human nature, particularly his own:  he prefers to be guided by his “better angel” who is “right fair,” but he is tempted too often by a “worser spirit.” 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 144 “Two loves I have of comfort and despair”

    The speaker in sonnet 144 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence has become disheartened by his having made many bad choices that leave him in “despair” rather than in “comfort.”  He analyzes the two natures that seem to be battling within him, a battle of good and evil, of good angels vs bad angels.  

    While the speaker seems to be leaning toward believing that his better nature is losing that battle, he does leave open the possibility of  the opposite occurrence.  Although “doubt” is a painful human condition, at least it is not a positive or declarative state.  Doubt may lean toward the negative, but with further evidence, doubt can be changed to understanding and faith.

    Sonnet 144 “Two loves I have of comfort and despair”

    Two loves I have of comfort and despair
    Which like two spirits do suggest me still:
    The better angel is a man right fair,
    The worser spirit a woman, colour’d ill.
    To win me soon to hell, my female evil
    Tempteth my better angel from my side,
    And would corrupt my saint to be a devil,
    Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
    And whether that my angel be turn’d fiend
    Suspect I may, yet not directly tell;
    But being both from me, both to each friend,
    I guess one angel in another’s hell:
    Yet this shall I ne’er know, but live in doubt,
    Till my bad angel fire my good one out.

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 144 “Two loves I have of comfort and despair”

    As the speaker examines the ambiguity of his nature, he asserts that he prefers to be guided by his “better angel” who is “right fair,” but he is tempted too often by a “worser spirit.”  This common human problem finds a colorful treatment by this clever, muse-inspired poet.

    First Quatrain:  Dual Nature

    Two loves I have of comfort and despair
    Which like two spirits do suggest me still:
    The better angel is a man right fair,
    The worser spirit a woman, colour’d ill.

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 144, the speaker reports that there are “two loves” residing in his consciousness.  The famous German poet/playwright, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, created a similar situation for his Faust, who uttered the words, “Zwei Seelen, ach!, wohnen in meinem Brust,” (Two spirits, alas, reside in my heart.)  

    This ambiguity continually presents a universal conundrum for the human condition.  One wants to follow the path of goodness and morality, yet lustful urges tempt one to commit sins against the soul.  

    The great spiritual guru, Paramahansa Yogananda, has clearly explained that the strong delusional forces of maya befuddle and misdirect through confusion the human mind.  Those forces motivate human beings to think that evil will bring happiness, and that self-discipline will bring misery and unhappiness, and by the time we poor indulgent fools learn the truth, we are usually neck-deep in the sorrow that our ignorance has brought.

    Thus the speaker realizes that his better nature, which would bring him “comfort,” is often outflanked by the “worser spirit.” He is then thrust into a situation that evokes in him “despair.”  

    The “better nature” is masculine and the “worser” is feminine; these qualities do not correspond to human sex or gender in language declension; instead, they refer to the principles that govern the pairs of opposites, which function as the modus operandi of maya or delusion.  

    Both women and men become plagued with the same problems, and both must solve the problem by the same method that transcends the physical and mental to thus attain the spiritual; therefore, the better nature is “right fair,” while the worse is “colour’d ill.”   

    Second Quatrain:  The Battle of the Angels

    To win me soon to hell, my female evil
    Tempteth my better angel from my side,
    And would corrupt my saint to be a devil,
    Wooing his purity with her foul pride.

    The “female evil,” if he continues to follow it, will lead him to hell because it causes him to ignore, and therefore, weaken his “better angel.”  Instead of becoming a saint, he will “be a devil.”  The “foul pride” will overtake “his purity,” if he allows it to happen.

    This perceptive speaker understands the nature of duality, and he also understands the strength that that duality exerts over the human mind and heart.  His lament is directed to his own nature.  

    He knows he must discipline himself in order to straighten his ability to continue his journey down his path.  He is, therefore, using his knowledge to explain and also persuade his better nature to exert itself against his evil side.  By elucidating the nature of good and evil, he hopes to influence his better nature to make better choices in the future.

    Third Quatrain:  Uncertainty

    And whether that my angel be turn’d fiend
    Suspect I may, yet not directly tell;
    But being both from me, both to each friend,
    I guess one angel in another’s hell:

    Because both urges live in the same speaker, he cannot be sure how he will keep the evil urge from overtaking the good one.  Perhaps his “angel” will “be turn’d fiend,” but since they both live in him, he can only “guess one angel (lives) in another’s hell.”  The two collide, and the one causes the other to live in hell within him.

    Although he possesses a certain level of understanding, the speaker remains aware that the evil may still overtake the good.  He seems to cede power to the evil side, even against his will.  But if he had perfect power along with the fail-proof protection against the evil, he would not have an argument or even the motivation to begin the argument.

    The Couplet:  A Hopeful Doubt

    Yet this shall I ne’er know, but live in doubt,
    Till my bad angel fire my good one out.

    The speaker seems to end on a sad note.  Because the speaker suspects he will never be able to mollify the two parts of his psyche, he will “live in doubt.”  Thus the “worser spirit” just might win the battle for his soul.  

    On the other hand, because at this point he knows he will continue to “live in doubt,” the possibility is left open that the “good one” will be able ultimately to overcome and extinguish the “bad angel.” 

    At his point in the creation of this thematic sonnet group, the speaker can allow himself the possibility of failure.  If he fails, he will still have material for creating his little dramas, and if he succeeds in conquering his licentiousness, he will also remain in possession of a treasure trove of materials that will result in even more colorful and spiritually useful little dramatic sonnets.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 145 “Those lips that Love’s own hand did make”

    This sonnet may be the weakest of the entire set of 154.  The speaker is reaching here, striving to make clever a rather mundane little scenario that falls flat.

    Introduction and Text of  Sonnet 145 “Those lips that Love’s own hand did make”

    Sonnet 145 “Those lips that Love’s own hand did make” demonstrates an unfortunate, shallow attempt at cleverness; thus it does not, in fact, accomplish that goal.  The speaker simply sounds silly, as he appears to be concocting a situation while recounting a linguistic event with that despicable, dark lady.  

    The speaker is not directly addressing the woman in this sonnet as he is wont to do.  Interestingly, this sonnet is written in iambic tetrameter, instead of the traditional pentameter, in which all of the other sonnets are written, giving a clipped, curt rhythm.

    Sonnet 145 “Those lips that Love’s own hand did make”

    Those lips that Love’s own hand did make
    Breath’d forth the sound that said ‘I hate,’
    To me that languish’d for her sake:
    But when she saw my woeful state,
    Straight in her heart did mercy come,
    Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
    Was us’d in giving gentle doom;
    And taught it thus anew to greet;
    ‘I hate,’ she alter’d with an end,
    That follow’d it as gentle day
    Doth follow night, who like a fiend
    From heaven to hell is flown away.
    ‘I hate’ from hate away she threw,
    And sav’d my life, saying—‘Not you.’

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 145 “Those lips that Love’s own hand did make”

    This sonnet is likely the weakest of the entire series of 154.  The speaker is obviously reaching here, striving to make clever a rather mundane little scenario that falls flat.

    First Quatrain:  The Cleverness of Incompleteness

    Those lips that Love’s own hand did make
    Breath’d forth the sound that said ‘I hate,’
    To me that languish’d for her sake:
    But when she saw my woeful state,

    In the first quatrain, the speaker reports that the woman has spewed forth the expression, “I hate,” and he makes the contrast between the lips “that Love’s own hand [had] made,” and the expression of hatred that they pronounced.  He reveals that she said these vile words to him even as he had been pining for her.

    The speaker then begins to report a turn-around of the lady’s sentiment by stating, “But when she saw my woeful state,” which he leaves for the next quatrain.  This construction is no doubt part of his attempt at cleverness by leaving the thought uncompleted.

    Second Quatrain:  Wiping Clean the Hatred

    Straight in her heart did mercy come,
    Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
    Was us’d in giving gentle doom;
    And taught it thus anew to greet;

    The speaker reveals that after seeing his sorrowful expression, she suddenly becomes sympathetic towards him.  He makes it difficult to accept his claim that “straight in her heart mercy c[a]me.”  

    In early sonnets, he has painted her the epitome of evil will toward him, but now he wants to play a little game with words.  The reader has to believe the speaker is deluding himself.

    But, nevertheless, the speaker claims that she changes her hatred and even chides herself for causing him pain.  He would have his listener believe that she is truly sorry for using her tongue “in giving gentle doom.”  She, accordingly, wipes clean her earlier expression of hatred and begins again.

    Third Quatrain:  The Clever Construct

    ‘I hate,’ she alter’d with an end,
    That follow’d it as gentle day
    Doth follow night, who like a fiend
    From heaven to hell is flown away.

    However, when the woman restates her expression, the same “I hate,” comes flying from her mouth.  But, and here is the clever construction of which the speaker feels very proud:  she concluded her spiteful remark with one that became mild and natural as daylight following nighttime or like some devil being expelled from heaven and deposited in hell where he belongs. 

    The speaker seems to understand that no matter what he says to delude himself, beneath the façade he knows the truth:  she is surely that fiend whom heaven has expelled to hell.  After setting up these contrasts, the speaker waits for the couplet to complete his little twist.

    The Couplet:  Gullible and Easy to Please

    ‘I hate’ from hate away she threw,
    And sav’d my life, saying—‘Not you.’

    The lady then tells him that she does actually hate, but she does not hate him.  And he buys into that, or at least pretends to, and thus claims that she has saved his life.  He is easy to please at times.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 146 “Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth”

    The speaker in sonnet 146 “Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth” addresses his soul (his true self), asking it why it bothers to continue to bedeck an aging body, when the soul is so much more important.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 146 “Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth”

    As the speaker in sonnet 146 “Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth” has for many years concentrated upon creativity, he has gained awareness that the decaying physical encasement cannot deserve the intense interest and attention that it often receives.  The speaker’s goal remains a moving force in his life.  He wishes to acquire soul knowledge that is permanent. 

    Such a lofty goal is the natural result of having lived a life of truth seeking for his creative efforts to fashion important sonnets that sing with love, beauty, and, above all, truth.  His constant sparring with his muse and untiring work in his writing have engaged him and placed him on a path to soul-realization.

    The speaker desires to rise above the vicissitudes of earthly living to enter into a realm of existence that allows one to know that death can never claim him.  He is the soul, not the body, and the soul is immortal, and as he comes to unite with his immortal soul, he can aver that “there’s no more dying then.”

    Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth

    Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth
    Fool’d by these rebel powers that thee array,
    Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,
    Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
    Why so large cost, having so short a lease,
    Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
    Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
    Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body’s end?
    Then soul, live thou upon thy servant’s loss,
    And let that pine to aggravate thy store;
    Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;
    Within be fed, without be rich no more:
    So shall thou feed on Death, that feeds on men,
    And Death once dead, there’s no more dying then.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 146 “Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth”

    The speaker in sonnet 146 addresses his soul (his true self), asking it why it bothers to continue to bedeck an aging body, when the soul is so much more important.

    First Quatrain:  Fooled by Physical Temptations

    Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth
    Fool’d by these rebel powers that thee array,
    Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,
    Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?

    In the first quatrain, the speaker of sonnet 146 directs a question to his soul, that is, his own true self: oh, my soul, why do you allow yourself to suffer within this expensively decorated outer body?  He is metaphorically comparing his physical body to a building; his outer frame flesh and skin are likened to “walls.”  

    The speaker is suffering as all mortals suffer, but he is aware that inwardly he is an immortal soul, and therefore, he finds it difficult to understand why he allows himself to be “fool’d by these rebel powers that thee array,” or fooled by the temptations of the physical body.

    Second Quatrain:  The Temporary Abode of the Soul

    Why so large cost, having so short a lease,
    Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
    Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
    Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body’s end?

    The speaker poses another question with a similar theme:  why bother with a clod of clay in which the soul will remain for only a short while?  Why spend time, effort, treasure on things for the body, which “worms, inheritors of this excess” will soon feast upon?  

    The speaker has grown weary of the constant care and adornment of the body, especially the procurement of elegant raiment that serves no purpose and begins to look unsightly when placed upon an aging body.  The body is not important; only the soul is essential, and the speaker wants to follow and drive home the precepts that accompany this realization.

    Third Quatrain:  To Rely More on Soul than Body

    Then soul, live thou upon thy servant’s loss,
    And let that pine to aggravate thy store;
    Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;
    Within be fed, without be rich no more:

    Because of the temporary stewardship of the body, the speaker instructs himself to live more inwardly, and let the body learn to live simply and modestly:  “Then soul, live thou upon thy servant’s loss, / And let that pine to aggravate thy store.”

    The speaker tells himself to meditate on the Divine soul within and pay less attention to the gross outward coat of flesh:  “Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross; / Within be fed, without be rich no more.”  He needs to be nourished by his spirit and not by his body.

    The Couplet:  To Overcome Death

    So shall thou feed on Death, that feeds on men,
    And Death once dead, there’s no more dying then.

    If the speaker were to continue to meditate on his true self and study the ways of the Divine Reality, he will be able to outsmart death.  Although ordinary folks permit death to overtake them, those blessed ones who unite with the soul become capable of transcending death, as they realize finally that the soul lives eternally:  “there’s no more dying then.”  

    This speaker continues to hold himself to his noble goal, one which remains the natural result of  living a life filled with extraordinary creativity while sparring with the muse that he has always found engaging.

    Where Is the “Dark Lady”? 

    Because this sonnet is categorized with the “Dark Lady” sonnets, readers might wonder why there is nary a mention of her or the plight against which the speaker has been struggling in the sonnets leading up to this one. 

    Remember that the speaker is suffering deeply because of the cruel treatment he has received from a woman who is supposed to love him.  Thus far he has complained, accused, and then groveled at the feet of this miscreant.  The issue tackled in this sonnet is motived directly by the pain and suffering the woman has caused the speaker. 

    He is now to the point of wondering if life is even worth living if one has to continue to grovel in pain without end.  He is thus trying to remind his own better nature that his suffering is not necessary.  And he is doing so by reminding himself that he is an immortal, perfect soul—not the physical body tossed about by delusional senses that lead him into perdition.

    Although she remains out the sight in this scene, she is behind it:  the “Dark Lady” is directly responsible for the speaker’s mood in this sonnet.  She is directly responsible for the deep anguish and troubling sorrows that are motivating the speaker to concentrate on and to continue to seek higher goals than the mere physical.  The dark lady is part of the physical, sexual world from which the speaker is now attempting to extricate himself.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 147 “My love is as a fever, longing still”

    In sonnet 147 “My love is as a fever, longing still,” the speaker is examining and ultimately condemning his unhealthy attachment to the dark lady. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 147 “My love is as a fever, longing still” 

    Sonnet 147 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence at first appears to be merely the speaker’s musing about his uncontrolled desires for the affection of the mistress, but it turns out that he is actually addressing her as he examines his spurious affair with her.

    Sonnet 147 “My love is as a fever, longing still” 

    My love is as a fever, longing still
    For that which longer nurseth the disease;
    Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
    The uncertain sickly appetite to please.
    My reason, the physician to my love,
    Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,
    Hath left me, and I desperate now approve
    Desire is death, which physic did except.
    Past cure I am, now Reason is past care,
    And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;
    My thoughts and my discourse as madmen’s are,
    At random from the truth vainly express’d;
    For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
    Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 147 “My love is as a fever, longing still” 

    The speaker examines and condemns his unhealthy attachment to the dark lady, bemoaning his loss of reason, the result of allowing his lower nature to rule his conscience.

    First Quatrain:  Still in the Clutches

    My love is as a fever, longing still
    For that which longer nurseth the disease;
    Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
    The uncertain sickly appetite to please.

    In the first quatrain, the speaker confesses that he remains in the clutches of sexual attraction to  the woman.  He understand that this desire is degrading his health,  and thus he labels it a “sickly appetite.”  He declaims that not only is this unhealthy hankering a dreadful disease, but that it also continues to feed upon itself, nursing and perpetuating itself, resulting in the horrific situation, in which he finds himself.

    Reasoning that his emotional state is eliciting and perpetuating this debased condition, he decides to display his longing in medical terms, using such terms  as “fever,” “nurseth,” “disease,” and “ill.”  All of these images contribute to causing the patient have a”sickly appetite” that he believes he must discover how to ameliorate.

    Second Quatrain:  Reason Has Faded

    My reason, the physician to my love,
    Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,
    Hath left me, and I desperate now approve
    Desire is death, which physic did except.

    The speaker then claims that his “reason,” or  medical professional metaphorically his ability to think clearly, has abandoned him.  He can no longer think logically, because of his irrational desire to engage  in an unhealthy relationship with the slattern, to whom he has permitted himself the sad state of becoming attached.   

    The speaker says that because of his forgotten ability to reason he is continuing to confuse desire with death.  He  continues to be aware that his reasonable physician, if he were still communicating with that entity, would still be keeping him aware of the instinct to keep soul and body together.

    Third Quatrain:  Irrationality Has Stolen His Mind

    Past cure I am, now Reason is past care,
    And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;
    My thoughts and my discourse as madmen’s are,
    At random from the truth vainly express’d;

    The speaker then grumbles  that he is beyond help in curing his ailment, and he has also lost his capacity to be concerned about his delusional state.  He deems himself, “frantic-mad with evermore unrest.”  Individuals who continually allow the sex urge to dominate and contaminate their thoughts discover that it becomes virtually hopeless to put that genie back in the bottle.  

    The strong force of sex longings overpowers reason, and once aroused, passion aggressively demands gratification.  The speaker knows that he has permitted himself to be driven by perverse desires that cause “[his] thoughts” and his even speech to become as frenzied as that of a madman.  He discovers that he had become unsteady in his ability to search for truth, a central tenant of his faith and action that had remained his main interest as he creates his art. 

    The Couplet:  Not Loving

    For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
    Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

    In the couplet, the speaker begins to find some clarity.  He has been addressing his ravings to this woman and is now ready to hurl appropriate accusations at the filthy slattern. He also reveals the exact spot on which his mental health is  now shining its light:  he made the mistake of believing that the woman was a loving as well as lovely creature.

    But her true personality and behavior have revealed to him a monstrous prevaricator, who is incapable of truth and fidelity.  Instead of fair and bright, this miscreant’s behavior determines her to be “black as hell” and “dark as night.”

    Shakespeare Sonnet 148 “O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head”

    In sonnet 148 “O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head,” the sonneteer has come to the end of his ability to explore new themes in his sonnet sequence:  he is now rehashing the disparity between what he sees and what is there.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 148 “O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head”

    Sonnet 148 has the speaker speculating again about the disparity between his “eyes” and his brain.  He avers that his “judgment” has abandoned him because his eyes continue to deceive him:  he sees beauty that allures him, but beneath the skin of that beauty lie “foul faults.” 

    Sonnet 148 “O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head”

    O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head
    Which have no correspondence with true sight;
    Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled,
    That censures falsely what they see aright?
    If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,
    What means the world to say it is not so?
    If it be not, then love doth well denote
    Love’s eye is not so true as all men’s: no.
    How can it? O! how can Love’s eye be true,
    That is so vex’d with watching and with tears?
    No marvel then, though I mistake my view;
    The sun itself sees not till heaven clears.
    O cunning Love! with tears thou keep’st me blind,
    Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 148 “O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head”

    The sonneteer has come to end of his ability to explore new themes in this group of sonnets:  he is now rehashing the disparity between what he sees and what is there.

    First Quatrain:   Deceptive Eyes

    O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head
    Which have no correspondence with true sight;
    Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled,
    That censures falsely what they see aright?

    In sonnet 141, the speaker begins by telling the mistress that because he sees many flaws in her outward beauty, he does not hold affection for her by looking at her.  And in sonnet 148, once again, he is broaching the subject of the deception of his “eyes”: what he sees does not correspond to with the reality of what is actually there.

    He then conjectures that if his eyes are seeing correctly, then his discernment is gone, leaving him unable to distinguish right from wrong, error from accuracy, moral from immoral.  In sonnet 141, he blames his lack of discrimination on his “heart,” while in sonnet 148, he simply condemns his ability to think clearly.

    Second Quatrain:  False Eyes

    If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,
    What means the world to say it is not so?
    If it be not, then love doth well denote
    Love’s eye is not so true as all men’s: no.

    The speaker continues to examine the possibility that his eyes simply do not see what is before him.  He again tries to rationalize his feelings by comparison to what others think. 

    If his “false eyes” see correctly, and his lady is truly “fair,” then others have to be sitting in false judgment.  However, if what he sees is, in fact, tainted, then his eyes are “not so true as all men’s.”  He then reinforces the negative that he has come to believe with the simple negation, “no.” 

    Third Quatrain:  Troubled Eyes

    How can it? O! how can Love’s eye be true,
    That is so vex’d with watching and with tears?
    No marvel then, though I mistake my view;
    The sun itself sees not till heaven clears.

    The speaker then questions—”How can it?”—which he extends for clarification, “O! how can Love’s eye be true, / That is so vex’d with watching and with tears?”   Reasoning that because his eyes are troubled by what he sees the woman do and then by the fact that he cries tears that blind his vision, he compares his eyes to the “sun” which “sees not till heaven clears.” 

    By using his reason, he has determined that he could not possibly be seeing his mistress in all her reality because not only is his heart lead astray but his very eyesight in literally distorted from the real tears he sheds over the strained relationship.

    The Couplet: Blinded by Tears

    O cunning Love! with tears thou keep’st me blind,
    Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find.

    The speaker sums up his situation by craftily laying the blame at the woman’s feet:  she deliberately keeps him blinded by tears, so that his normally “well-seeing” eyes cannot detect her “foul faults.”  

    Shakespeare Sonnet 149 “Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not”

    In sonnet 149 “Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not,” the speaker poses six rhetorical questions to the “dark lady,” still attempting to find out her reason for the constant cruelty she metes out to him who adores her so.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 149 “Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not”

    Sonnet 149 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence is composed of a set of six rhetorical questions—a literary device in which the question contains its own answer.  For example, a paraphrase of the the opening question might be, “Are you really able to claim that I do not love you when you see me acting against my own best interests by continuing this ruinous relationship with you?”  

    As a statement:  Even though you claim that I do not love you, you can see that I act against my own best interest by continuing this ruinous relationship with you.  Likewise, the second question is:  “Don’t you understand that for you I debase myself with self-cruelty?”  And its implication is:  “You well understand that for you I debase myself with self-cruelty.”

    The sonnet then continues with four further rhetorical questions.  The speaker fashions his complaint into questions in order to add emphasis to their meaning, which is the function of all rhetorical questions.  The couplet caps the series with a heavily sarcastic command.

    Sonnet 149 “Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not”

    Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not
    When I against myself with thee partake?
    Do I not think on thee, when I forgot
    Am of myself, all tyrant, for thy sake?
    Who hateth thee that I do call my friend?
    On whom frown’st thou that I do fawn upon?
    Nay, if thou lour’st on me, do I not spend
    Revenge upon myself with present moan?
    What merit do I in myself respect,
    That is so proud thy service to despise,
    When all my best doth worship thy defect,
    Commanded by the motion of thine eyes?
    But, love, hate on, for now I know thy mind;
    Those that can see thou lov’st, and I am blind.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 149 “Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not”

    Attempting to ferret out the dark lady’s reason for the constant cruelty she metes out to him, the befuddled but still clever speaker now concocts his drama by posing six cleverly worded rhetorical questions to the slattern.

    First Quatrain:  Groaning and Complaining

    Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not
    When I against myself with thee partake?
    Do I not think on thee, when I forgot
    Am of myself, all tyrant, for thy sake?

    The first two rhetorical questions of sonnet 149 appear in the first quatrain and may be paraphrased as follows:  1.  Are you really able to claim that I do not love you when you see me acting against my own best interests by continuing this ruinous relationship with you?  2.  Don’t you understand that for you I debase myself with self-cruelty? 

    Throughout this “Dark Lady” thematic group of the sonnet sequence, the speaker has continued to groan and complain about how he is kinder to the woman than he is to himself.  

    He continues to swallow his pride and hand over his own thoughts and feelings to a supercilious woman who spurns him and abuses him and then audaciously insists that he does not hold affection for her.

    Second Quatrain:  Sacrificing for Mistreatment

    Who hateth thee that I do call my friend?
    On whom frown’st thou that I do fawn upon?
    Nay, if thou lour’st on me, do I not spend
    Revenge upon myself with present moan?

    Rhetorical questions 3, 4, and 5 continue in the second quatrain, and may be paraphrased as follows:  3.  Have I not estranged myself from all those who have spoken ill of you?  4.  Are you not aware that I scorn anyone who scorns you?  5.  And as you look at me with disdain, do I not berate myself for your sake?

    The speaker is confessing that he has sacrificed other friends for her sake.  And he even scolds himself after she makes him think that he is to blame for her disagreeable treatment of him.  He wants to make her realize that he has been willing to surrender not only other friends, but also his own self-interest for her sake.

    Third Quatrain:  Self-Hate and Low Self-Esteem

    What merit do I in myself respect,
    That is so proud thy service to despise,
    When all my best doth worship thy defect,
    Commanded by the motion of thine eyes?

    The final question comprises the entire third quatrain.  A paraphrase might result as:  6.  When you see me under the spell of your wondering eyes, how do you think I should have any self-esteem left when I virtually hate myself in order to serve your blundering ways? 

    The speaker has become desperate to understand the betrayal of trust and appreciation he feels he deserves after remaining dedicated to serving this deceitful woman’s needs.  He knows he has degraded himself while allowing his senses to rule him instead of his balanced mind.

    The Couplet:  Seeing What Is Not There

    But, love, hate on, for now I know thy mind;
    Those that can see thou lov’st, and I am blind.

    In the couplet, the speaker seems to throw up his hands telling the woman to go ahead and hate him if she must.  But at least he finally knows what she is thinking.  He adds a final, sarcastic jab:  anyone who thinks that you can love is fooling himself, and yet I consider myself the deluded one.  

    Depending upon how one reads the last line, another interpretation is also possible:  the speaker wishes to contrast himself with those men that the “dark lady” would love; thus, he claims that she loves only the ones who “can see,” and therefore, she cannot love him, because he is blind.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 150 “O! from what power hast thou this powerful might”

    The speaker of the “dark lady” sonnets has become addicted to this form of poetic rhetoric, employing it often, posing four questions in the quatrains of sonnet 150 “O! from what power hast thou this powerful might.”

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 150 “O! from what power hast thou this powerful might”

    In sonnet 150 “O! from what power hast thou this powerful might,” again the speaker poses questions to the mistress, and again they are questions that only he can answer.  The form of questioning is merely a rhetorical device and is not concerned with gathering answers from this person, who he knows would not have the intelligence to answer anyway.  

    Sonnet 150 “O! from what power hast thou this powerful might”

    O! from what power hast thou this powerful might
    With insufficiency my heart to sway?
    To make me give the lie to my true sight,
    And swear that brightness doth not grace the day?
    Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill,
    That in the very refuse of thy deeds
    There is such strength and warrantise of skill,
    That, in my mind, thy worst all best exceeds?
    Who taught thee how to make me love thee more,
    The more I hear and see just cause of hate?
    O! though I love what others do abhor,
    With others thou shouldst not abhor my state:
    If thy unworthiness rais’d love in me,
    More worthy I to be belov’d of thee.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 150 “O! from what power hast thou this powerful might”

    The speaker of sonnet 150 “O! from what power hast thou this powerful might” knows that the “dark lady” would not have the intelligence to answer any of the questions he poses to her.  Why does he ask them?  As most rhetorical questions do, they function to emphasize the answer they imply. 

    First Quatrain:   Two Questions

    O! from what power hast thou this powerful might
    With insufficiency my heart to sway?
    To make me give the lie to my true sight,
    And swear that brightness doth not grace the day?

    The first quatrain contains two questions:  where does it come from, this force you exert to cause my heart to bend to your wishes?   He adds that even though she possesses this “powerful might,” he labels it “with insufficiency” making it known that he understands how lame her power really is.  

    The weakness of her power reveals ever more clearly how wretched the speaker has become from all of his attention paid to this unworthy woman.  He knows she can only do him harm, weaken his resolve to live a moral life, distract him from his previously stated goals of the pursuit of truth and beauty.  His outbursts cause his sonnets to resemble a confessional, but instead of dumping his sins onto a priest, he crafts them into works of art.

    His second question asks how she has the power to make him see what is not there.  His sight becomes so distorted that he has not the ability to aver that the sun shines.  Her ability to attract him to filth closes his eyes to all else that is good, clean, and bright.

    Second Quatrain:  Turning Everything Disgusting

    Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill,
    That in the very refuse of thy deeds
    There is such strength and warrantise of skill,
    That, in my mind, thy worst all best exceeds?

    The third question takes up the entire second quatrain:  how is it that you have the muscle to cause everything to turn disgusting and with “such strength” to cause “my mind” to believe that the worst things you do are better than the best that can be done.

    The speaker, at this point, becomes nearly mad with a confused brain. Knowing that the woman is immoral, yet feeling without power to struggle against the attraction he maintains for her, he can only moan and complain bitterly in sonnet after dramatic sonnet.

    Third Quatrain:  Distorting His Feelings

    Who taught thee how to make me love thee more,
    The more I hear and see just cause of hate?
    O! though I love what others do abhor,
    With others thou shouldst not abhor my state:

    The final question takes up the first two lines of the third quatrain:  “who taught thee” how to distort my feelings?  The more he experiences her harmful ways, that is, the more he experiences the things he knows he should hate, the more he appears to love her, or be attracted to her.  

    Although he seems to love what other people, who think with clarity, hate, he admonishes that her she should not agree with the others who find his own state of mind hateful.  He seems always to be telling her what to think and feel, knowing his advice never exerts any influence on or awareness in her.

    The Couplet:  The Uncomprehending

    If thy unworthiness rais’d love in me,
    More worthy I to be belov’d of thee.

    The speaker then sums up his rhetorical questioning with a strange remark:  since this shady woman, who is lacking worth, has influenced him to be attracted to her, somehow it seems to follow that he is “worthy” of her love and affection.  If the woman were capable of understanding such logic, not even this small brained strumpet would agree with such a sham conclusion.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 151 “Love is too young to know what conscience is”

    The speaker is studying the nature of “conscience” and “lust” and dramatizes the effect of lust on his other self that rises and falls through conscienceless motivation.  He concocts one the ugliest images to appear in literary works—one that degrades him as he gives in to its lust.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 151 “Love is too young to know what conscience is”

    In sonnet 151 “Love is too young to know what conscience is” from “The Dark Lady Sonnets” of the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker is offering a clear comparison between the dictates of the flesh and the dictates of the soul.  He reveals his awareness that certain bodily functions are capable of waylaying moral judgment.

    Sonnet 151 “Love is too young to know what conscience is”

    Love is too young to know what conscience is;
    Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?
    Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,
    Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove:
    For, thou betraying me, I do betray
    My nobler part to my gross body’s treason;
    My soul doth tell my body that he may
    Triumph in love; flesh stays no further reason,
    But rising at thy name doth point out thee
    As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride,
    He is contented thy poor drudge to be,
    To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.
    No want of conscience hold it that I call
    Her ‘love’ for whose dear love I rise and fall.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 151 “Love is too young to know what conscience is”

    When the speaker fails to follow his intuition of truth, he falls victim to lecherous urges that blemish his soul.  His stick of flesh pointing to the object of its lust takes his mind in the wrong direction.

    First Quatrain:  The Euphemistic Love

    Love is too young to know what conscience is;
    Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?
    Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,
    Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove:

    The speaker asserts in the first line of the first quatrain of sonnet 151 that lust remains too immature to arise to the knowledge of wisdom that leads to proper behavior.  He is again employing the term “love” as a euphemistic metaphor for “lust.”  In the second line, he avers that “love” now employed literally and “conscience” are virtually identical, as “conscience” and soul are identical.  

    The speaker then puts forth the rhetorical question, what sentient human being is not cognizant of the fact that “conscience” is activated by love?  But he knows that the “gentle cheater” does not know this.  This physically beautiful woman does not possess a beautiful mind.  

    Thus he suggests to her that she not try to prove his flaws, for she might find that she is guilty of the same faults that he is.  Of course, he does not believe this.  He is winding down his relationship with her because he knows it has no future.

    Second Quatrain:  Relationship between Body and Soul

    For, thou betraying me, I do betray
    My nobler part to my gross body’s treason;
    My soul doth tell my body that he may
    Triumph in love; flesh stays no further reason,

    The speaker then accurately describes the relationship between body and soul as well as between himself and the dark lady.  When she betrays him, he follows and betrays his “nobler part” which is his soul.  His “gross body” or physical body commits treason again his soul, every time he allows himself to be seduced by this woman.

    The speaker reports that his soul tries to guide him to the right thing that he should do; his soul directs his body to act in ways that “he may / Triumph in love.”  But “flesh stays no further reason.”  The flesh is weak and succumbs even when the mind is strong.

    Third Quatrain: Stick of Flesh

    But rising at thy name doth point out thee
    As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride,
    He is contented thy poor drudge to be,
    To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.

    The speaker completes the clause from the preceding quatrain, “flesh stays no further reason, / / But rising at thy name doth point out thee / As his triumphant prize.”  Referring to his penile erection that occurs “at [her] name,” he makes a joke at the woman’s expense:  she is a “triumphant prize” for this stick of flesh that is pointing at her.  This depiction remains one of the ugliest and most repulsive images in English literature.

    Continuing his penile reference, the speaker abandons himself to a full characterization of his male member, stating that the organ takes pride in its function and that “He” feels pleased just to be the woman’s “poor drudge.”   “He” is happy to erect himself for her sake and remain limp beside her at other times. 

    The Couplet:  Whole Self vs Stick of Self

    No want of conscience hold it that I call
    Her ‘love’ for whose dear love I rise and fall.

    The speaker then declares that his male member has no conscience, and while his mind and consciousness are in the grip of lecherous strain, he mistakenly calls the lust he feels for her “love,” which he places in single scare quotes:  ‘love’. 

    For her “dear love,” the speaker claims he “rise[s] and fall[s],” cleverly suggesting a parallel between his whole self and his other little flesh stick of self that also rises and falls at her behest.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 152 “In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn”

    Sonnet 152 “In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn”is the final sonnet that directly addresses the “dark lady”; it is quite fitting that it closes with the same complaint he has long issued against the woman.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 152 “In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn”

    In the first line of sonnet 152 “In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn” from “The Dark Lady Sonnets” in the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker commits the grammatical sin of a dangling participle:  “In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn”—the prepositional modifying phrase “in loving thee” requires that element modified be “thou.” That modification, however, makes no sense. 

    The speaker is not saying that the addressee, the dark lady, is loving herself.  The proper modified element is “I,” which appears in the clause “I am forsworn.”  The grammatical constructions of this poet are nearly pristine in their correct usage.  He, no doubt, is relying on the second line to clear up the misunderstanding that his dangling participle causes.

    Sonnet 152 “In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn”

    In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn
    But thou art twice forsworn, to me love swearing;
    In act thy bed-vow broke, and new faith torn,
    In vowing new hate after new love bearing.
    But why of two oaths’ breach do I accuse thee,
    When I break twenty? I am perjur’d most;
    For all my vows are oaths but to misuse thee,
    And all my honest faith in thee is lost:
    For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindness,
    Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy; And, to enlighten thee, gave eyes to blindness,
    Or made them swear against the thing they see;
    For I have sworn thee fair; more perjur’d I,
    To swear against the truth so foul a lie!

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    Commentary on Sonnet 152 “In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn”

    The speaker concludes his “dark lady” subsequence by issuing the same complaint with which he began the sequence.  While the two final sonnets—153 and 154—remain technically part of the “Dark Lady” thematic group, they function differently, and sonnet 152 is actually the final sonnet to address the lady directly.

    First Quatrain: Legalese and Love

    In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn
    But thou art twice forsworn, to me love swearing;
    In act thy bed-vow broke, and new faith torn,
    In vowing new hate after new love bearing.

    As he has done many times before, the speaker resorts to legal terminology as he continues winding up his dramatic study of his tumultuous relationship with the dark lady.  

    He reminds her that she already knows he has sworn to love her, but then he adds a paradoxical statement, “But thou art twice forsworn, to me love swearing.”   She broke her vow to be sexually faithful by bedding other men, and then she broke her vow to love him by telling him she hates him.

    Second Quatrain:  Lost Faith

    But why of two oaths’ breach do I accuse thee,
    When I break twenty? I am perjur’d most;
    For all my vows are oaths but to misuse thee,
    And all my honest faith in thee is lost:

    The speaker then poses the question, why should I blame you for breaking two vows when I break twenty?  He claims that he is “perjur’d most” or that he has told more lies than she has.  He claims that, on the one hand, he makes his vows only to “misuse thee.”  Yet on the other hand, all the faith he has in her “is lost.” 

    Third Quatrain:  Bestowing Unmerited Qualities

    For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindness,
    Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy; And, to enlighten thee, gave eyes to blindness,
    Or made them swear against the thing they see;

    It turns out that the speaker’s “oaths” held the noble purpose of giving the woman all those qualities that she lacks:  love, truth, constancy.  He has attempted repeatedly to elicit from her “deep kindness” all of these noble qualities.  By showing her how to trust, he had hoped she would become trustworthy.

    In addition, the disheartened speaker had hoped to enlighten her by opening her eyes to more decent ways of behaving, but he ultimately found himself lying to himself, trying to convince his own eyes that what they saw was false, that he pretended for the sake of his misplaced affection for this woman.

    The Couplet:  Swearing and Lying

    For I have sworn thee fair; more perjur’d I,
    To swear against the truth so foul a lie!

    The speaker has many times declared that the woman was “fair,” and he now admits that such swearing made him a liar.  He committed perjury against truth by swearing to “so foul a lie.”  

    The conclusion of the relationship is achieved through the implied finality of the legalese  terminology that denounces for the last time the source of falsehood and treachery.  His final admission allows him to leave the relationship, knowing that truth in on his side.

    Shakespeare Sonnets 153 “Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep

    Sonnet 153 “Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep” alludes to Roman mythology through the characters of Cupid, god of love, and Diana, goddess of the hunt.  

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 153 “Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep

    The two final sonnets 153 and 154 are nearly identical; 154 is essentially a paraphrase of 153.  They differ from the other “dark lady” poems in two main ways:  they do not address the lady directly as most of the others do, and they employ use of Roman mythology for purposes of analogy.  

    Sonnet 153 “Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep”

    Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep
    A maid of Dian’s this advantage found,
    And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep
    In a cold valley-fountain of that ground;
    Which borrow’d from this holy fire of Love
    A dateless lively heat, still to endure,
    And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove
    Against strange maladies a sovereign cure.
    But at my mistress’ eye Love’s brand new-fired,
    The boy for trial needs would touch my breast;
    I, sick withal, the help of bath desired,
    And thither hied, a sad distemper’d guest,
    But found no cure: the bath for my help lies
    Where Cupid got new fire, my mistress’ eyes.

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    Commentary onSonnet 153 “Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep

    Sonnet 153 alludes to Roman mythology through the characters of Cupid, god of love, and Diana, goddess of the hunt.  

    First Quatrain:  Carrying a Torch

    Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep
    A maid of Dian’s this advantage found,
    And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep
    In a cold valley-fountain of that ground;

    In the first quatrain of Sonnet 153, the speaker, who is still the same speaker smarting from his unsatisfactory love affair with the dark mistress, dramatically alludes to the Roman god of love, Cupid.  In this little drama, Cupid falls asleep leaving his torch unattended.  One of Diana’s handmaidens sees Cupid asleep and steals off with his torch, which she tries to extinguish by dipping in a cold-spring pool of water.

    The speaker, in addition to exposing yet again his suffering at the hands of his dark mistress, is dramatizing a myth wherein medicinal hot springs is created.  His clever portrayal also employs an analogy between the Cupid torch and his own physical and mental torch of love.  The expression “to carry a torch” for someone after the breakup of a romance comes from the mythological Cupid with his torch.

    Second Quatrain:  From Cold to Hot Springs

    Which borrow’d from this holy fire of Love
    A dateless lively heat, still to endure,
    And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove
    Against strange maladies a sovereign cure.

    The Dianian nymph, however, was unsuccessful in extinguishing the torch’s flame, but the spring takes on the heat, transforming its cold waters into a hot-springs bath that people henceforth would use for curing physical ailments.  

    The waters are heated by the powerful “holy fire of Love,” and a “seething bath” continued in perpetuity, “which yet men prove / Against” all manner of physical illness; they come to the baths to seek “sovereign cure.” 

    Third Quatrain:  Allusion to Explicate Delusion 

    But at my mistress’ eye Love’s brand new-fired,
    The boy for trial needs would touch my breast;
    I, sick withal, the help of bath desired,
    And thither hied, a sad distemper’d guest,

    In the third quatrain, the purpose of the little Cupid-Diana drama becomes apparent.  The speaker is dramatizing his own “holy fire of Love,” that is, his obsessive lust for his mistress.  When he sees his mistress, or even just “[his] mistress’ eyes,” his own “Love brand,” that is, male member becomes “new-fired” or aroused to sensual desire.

    If the little god of love were to touch the speaker’s breast with his torch, the speaker would again become love sick, as he always does, and he would hurry to the hot springs that Cupid’s torch had created to try to be cured of his love-sickness.  

    However, the speaker asserts that he would be “a sad distemper’d guest” at the baths resort because he is always in a melancholy funk through the ill-treatment he suffers at the hands of the dark lady.

    The Couplet:  No Help

    But found no cure: the bath for my help lies
    Where Cupid got new fire, my mistress’ eyes.

    Unlike others who might have experienced a cure at the medicinal hot springs, this speaker, unfortunately, “found no cure.”  Referring to his male appendage as “Cupid” now, he claims that he could get help only from his “mistress’ eyes,” those same pools that always stimulate him to the passionate lust of coital arousal.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 154 “The little Love-god lying once asleep”

    Paraphrasing sonnet 153, sonnet 154 “The little Love-god lying once asleep” pairs up with its predecessor to bring down the curtain on this drama of unfulfilled love (“lust”) between speaker and mistress.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 154 “The little Love-god lying once asleep”

    Shakespeare sonnet 154 “The little Love-god lying once asleep” is the final installment in the “Dark Lady” thematic classification, as well as the final sonnet in the 154-sonnet sequence.

    Because sonnet 154 “The little Love-god lying once asleep” is essentially a paraphrase of sonnet 153, it, therefore, bears the same message.  The two final sonnets keep the same theme, a complaint of unrequited, scorned love, while dressing the complaint with the gaudy clothing of mythological allusion. 

    Again employing the Roman god, Cupid, and the goddess Diana, the speaker achieves a distance from his feelings—a distance that he, no doubt, hopes will finally bring him some comfort.

    In most of the “dark lady” sonnets, the speaker addresses the mistress directly or makes it clear that what he is saying is intended specifically for her ears.  In the last two sonnets, the speaker does not address the mistress; he does mention her, but he is speaking now about her instead of directly to her.  

    He is now withdrawing from the drama; the reader senses that he has grown weary from his battle for the lady’s love and attention, and now he just decides to make a philosophical drama that heralds the ending, saying essentially, “I’m through.”

    Sonnet 154 “The little Love-god lying once asleep”

    The little Love-god lying once asleep
    Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand,
    Whilst many nymphs that vow’d chaste life to keep
    Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand
    The fairest votary took up that fire
    Which many legions of true hearts had warm’d;
    And so the general of hot desire
    Was, sleeping, by a virgin hand disarm’d.
    This brand she quenched in a cool well by,
    Which from Love’s fire took heat perpetual, Growing a bath and healthful remedy
    For men diseas’d; but I, my mistress’ thrall,
    Came there for cure, and this by that I prove,
    Love’s fire heats water, water cools not love.

    Original Text  

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    Commentary Sonnet 154 “The little Love-god lying once asleep”

    Paraphrasing sonnet 153, sonnet 154 pairs up with its predecessor to bring down the curtain on this drama of unfulfilled love (“lust”) between speaker and mistress.

    First Quatrain:   Grabbing the Torch

    The little Love-god lying once asleep
    Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand,
    Whilst many nymphs that vow’d chaste life to keep
    Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand

    In the first quatrain, the speaker alludes to the Roman mythological god Cupid, saying that the god is sleeping, and his “heart-inflaming brand” or torch is lying by his side.  Along come “many nymphs” or handmaidens of the goddess of the hunt Diana; one of the maidens grabs the torch.

    Second Quatrain:  A Thieving Virgin

    The fairest votary took up that fire
    Which many legions of true hearts had warm’d;
    And so the general of hot desire
    Was, sleeping, by a virgin hand disarm’d.

    The speaker claims that the maiden who steals Cupid’s torch is the “fairest votary.”  He reports that the fire from this torch had caused many men to fall in love, and he emphasizes that now the torch is stolen by “a virgin” while the little love god lies fast asleep.

    Third Quatrain:  Cool the Flame, or Heat the Water

    This brand she quenched in a cool well by,
    Which from Love’s fire took heat perpetual, Growing a bath and healthful remedy
    For men diseas’d; but I, my mistress’ thrall,

    The maiden carries the torch to a “cool well” and tries to put out the flame, but instead she succeeds in heating the water.  The hot water becomes widely thought to possess health-giving powers “for men diseas’d.”  The speaker then asserts that such is not so for him in his “mistress’s thrall.”

    The Couplet:  Still no Cure

    Came there for cure, and this by that I prove,
    Love’s fire heats water, water cools not love.

    When the speaker goes to the bath famed for “healthful remedy,” he finds that there is no cure for him.  Love can heat water, but water cannot cool love.  What can the speaker do now?  There seems to be no resolution for his predicament.

    However, the likely implication from the two final sonnets is that he must simply walk away from her.  He must avert his eyes from the object that arouses his lust.  Instead merely stating that he must leave her, he leaves her by employing the mythological allusions in the two final sonnets that themselves have essentially left her.

    In the two final sonnets, the only mention of the woman is in the phrases “my mistress’ eyes” in sonnet 153 and “my mistress’ thrall” in sonnet 154.  The speaker is focusing on the physical attributes and that fact that they have enthralled him.  Thus because of his sick status which nothing can cure, he has no other alternative than to simply say—or strongly imply—I’m through.

    Cupid’s Torch vs Bow and Arrow

    The speaker’s choice of Cupid is obvious for the god’s representation of love, but the speaker also focuses on the “torch” instrument instead of the more common “bow and arrow.”  

    The choice of torch is obvious as well, as the speaker has often euphemistically referred to his aroused copulatory organ at the sight of the dark lady.  The speaker exaggerates his lust by dramatizing its ability to heat water, while water lacks the ability to cool his lust.

    The focus on the “torch” is also significant because the speaker’s relationship with the dark lady is based on lust, not love.  Cupid’s bow and arrow suggest that falling in love happens after Cupid has aimed his arrow at a target’s heart.  But it is not the speaker’s heart that craves the dark lady; it is his penis—his “torch” that he carries for her.  

    Whenever the speaker has employed the term “love” in the “Dark Lady Sonnets,” he employs it euphemistically for “lust.”  The heart loves, but the penis lusts.  And that state of affairs must be ended, if the speaker is to endure as a complete human being, capable of meeting his challenge of creating literary works of truth, beauty, and love.

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  • Shakespeare Sonnets:  The Muse Sonnets 74—126

    Image: Shake-speares Sonnets Hank Whittemore’s Shakespeare Blog

    Shakespeare Sonnets:  The Muse Sonnets 74—126

    Shakespeare Sonnet 74 “But be contented: when that fell arrest”

    Sonnet 74 “But be contented: when that fell arrest” reveals the speaker’s awareness of the triune nature of the human body’s composition and that nature’s relationship to art creation, as he continues the theme on life’s brevity.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 74 “But be contented: when that fell arrest”

    Sonnet 74 “But be contented: when that fell arrest” begins with the coordinating conjunction “but” to signal its connection to sonnet 73 as the speaker insists that despite life’s brevity and finality, art can act as a kind of defense again annihilation.  

    If the speaker can portray his life, his loves, his interests honestly and clearly enough, he will in a sense be creating for his life a kind of immortality that the purely physical level of being can never emulate.  

    The very spirit of art is what lives on after the death of the artist, whose spirit is captured in that art, if the artist has genuine talent and the ability to fulfill its promise.  Themed sub-sequences appear in the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence.  Such is the case with sonnet 74, which is a companion to sonnet 73 and sonnet 75 “So are you to my thoughts as food to life.”   

    In sonnet 73, the speaker metaphorically dramatizes the aging process to emphasize the nature of deep love and its preservation in art:  knowing that life on the physical level exists only briefly renders the ability to love and capture its qualities in art even more intense.  

    Sonnet 74 “But be contented: when that fell arrest”

    But be contented: when that fell arrest
    Without all bail shall carry me away,  
    My life hath in this line some interest,
    Which for memorial still with thee shall stay.
    When thou reviewest this, thou dost review
    The very part was consecrate to thee:  
    The earth can have but earth, which is his due;
    My spirit is thine, the better part of me:
    So then thou hast but lost the dregs of life,  
    The prey of worms, my body being dead;
    The coward conquest of a wretch’s knife,
    Too base of thee to be remembered.
      The worth of that is that which it contains,
      And that is this, and this with thee remains.

    Original Text

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    Commentary on Sonnet 74 “But be contented: when that fell arrest”

    Sonnet 74 “But be contented: when that fell arrest” continues with a further installment in this sub-sequence, which was begun in sonnet 73 “That time of year thou mayst in me behold”; it includes a focus on the aging and final death of the poet/speaker.

    First Quatrain:  Continuing the Thought

    But be contented: when that fell arrest
    Without all bail shall carry me away,  
    My life hath in this line some interest,
    Which for memorial still with thee shall stay.

    The speaker thus continues from the previous sonnet telling his audience to “be contented” even though they must be parted by the speaker’s death.  The speaker emphasizes the inevitability of “that fell arrest” which will “carry [him] away.”  He uses a legal metaphor saying there will be no “bail” to get him released from that arrest.

    The speaker then opens the discussion to the possibility of a kind of immortality in which the body cannot participate but his greater self, the soul, can.  And, of course, that immortality resides in the hands of his mighty talent which assists him in creating his little sonnet dramas.  

    The urgency of creating his bits of immortality continues to drive the speaker further into his adventure with art.  Becoming aware of his considerable talent can never be enough; he knows he must engage that talent with all the strength he has.  The speaker is convinced that his very soul depends on his ability to fulfill its destiny.

    Second Quatrain:  Part of the Planet

    When thou reviewest this, thou dost review
    The very part was consecrate to thee:  
    The earth can have but earth, which is his due;
    My spirit is thine, the better part of me:

    In the second quatrain, the speaker then avers that his body is simply a part of the earth, and the earth deserves to take it back.  But he is more than earth; he is spirit and that cannot be taken from him, nor can it be taken from his loved ones.  

    This speaker’s love has been sculpted into his written creations, and he knows that they are issuing from his immortal soul.  So even though his physical encasement must perish, he takes great comfort in knowing that he has left behind him great expressions of himself in his written works.

    The speaker’s genuinely heartfelt desires continue to motivate him in his works.  Even his dry spells will not allow him to rest; he pushes on despite all obstacles.  Immortality becomes a shining star upon which he has precisely focused his attention.  

    This dedicated speaker knows that it takes honesty, sincerity, and perseverance applied along with his considerable talent to create the kinds of works that will outlive him and continue to honor his efforts.

    Third Quatrain:   The Base Body

    So then thou hast but lost the dregs of life,  
    The prey of worms, my body being dead; The coward conquest of a wretch’s knife,
    Too base of thee to be remembered.

    The speaker then comforts his belovèds, among them his muse, that after the speaker has departed his body, those belovèds will have lost only the “dregs of life.”  The physical body is nothing more than the “prey of worms.”  Death has dominion over the physical body, and that dominion renders the physical encasement “too base” “to be remembered.” 

    Of the three bodies carried by each human being—causal, astral, and physical, sometimes narrowed down to merely spiritual and physical—this speaker has become cognizant that the physical body is the least of importance, while the other bodies are the ones that will remain attached to the soul until soul-liberation from them.

    This notion harkens back to sonnet 72 (See “Shakespeare Sonnet 72 ‘O! lest the world should task you to recite’”at HubPages) as the speaker commanded that his name be buried with his body.  He insists that loss of the gross body is not to be lamented.  

    This speaker retains the assurance that the mental and spiritual levels of being far outweigh in value that of the mere physical.   While the physical body and the mental levels serve as instruments, it is the immortal, ever conscious, eternal soul that is responsible for the best part of him:  his prowess in composition.

    The Couplet:   Soul in Art

      The worth of that is that which it contains,
      And that is this, and this with thee remains.

    The couplet forcefully declares that the only value of the body is that it contains the soul.  And this speaker has placed his soul into his art, which will continue to provide sustenance for all those other souls who may read his creations, including those family and friends who will mourn his loss. 

    The Premier World Poet: Knowledge Plus Talent

    The remarkable knowledge that this speaker continues to reveal demonstrates why the writer of the Shakespeare canon has become known as the premier world poet.  His skill is nearly flawless as he crafts his works with each word exactly in the place where it belongs.  

    Knowledge plus skill are the two necessary tools for all art.  Without a balance and harmony of those two useful tools, a would-be poet becomes a mere poetaster.   The Shakespeare writer demonstrates that balance and harmony in every poem and every play that he produces.  His facility with language can teach anyone who wishes to accept its instruction.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 75 “So are you to my thoughts as food to life”

    Sonnet 75 “So are you to my thoughts as food to life” finds the speaker returning to contemplating his considerable talent as well as his belovèd muse who nourishes his inspiration in creating his sonnet dramas. But he also bemoans the dual nature of the thinking process.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 75 “So are you to my thoughts as food to life”

    In sonnet 75 “So are you to my thoughts as food to life” from the thematic group “The Muse Sonnets” in the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker has been mourning the inevitable demise of his physical encasement and the possible waning of his talent. He was also broaching the same issue in sonnet 73 and  sonnet 74. 

    In sonnet 75 “So are you to my thoughts as food to life,” the speaker returns to his favorite complex subject:  his muse, his talent, and his ability to enshrine his deepest love in his sonnets as he battles the world of maya, whose dual nature always inserts negativity along with positivity.

    The speaker notes that his muse comes and goes.  At times he remains thoroughly nourished by his talent muse.  But other times, he finds himself starving for inspiration.  The writer is always hoping for continued inspiration for creativity.  

    However, this speaker also remains realistic as he bemoans the lack every time it occurs.  He differs from other writers in that he is able to create fine dramas out of the very annoyance that is goading him. 

    Sonnet 75 “So are you to my thoughts as food to life”

    So are you to my thoughts as food to life
    Or as sweet-season’d showers are to the ground;
    And for the peace of you I hold such strife  
    As ’twixt a miser and his wealth is found;
    Now proud as an enjoyer, and anon
    Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure;
    Now counting best to be with you alone,
    Then better’d that the world may see my pleasure:
    Sometime, all full with feasting on your sight,
    And by and by clean starved for a look;
    Possessing or pursuing no delight,
    Save what is had or must from you be took.
      Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day,
      Or gluttoning on all, or all away.

    Original Text

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    Commentary on Sonnet 75 “So are you to my thoughts as food to life”

    The speaker is noting that the presence of his talent-muse waxes and wanes.  Sometimes he can remain nourished by his considerable talent, while other times, he finds himself starving for inspiration during periods of dryness.

    First Quatrain:  Food of the Mind

    So are you to my thoughts as food to life
    Or as sweet-season’d showers are to the ground;
    And for the peace of you I hold such strife  
    As ’twixt a miser and his wealth is found;

    In the first quatrain, the speaker is addressing his muse as he avers that she nourishes his “thoughts” as “food” nourishes human “life.”   Furthermore, this speaker’s muse enlivens him as the rain does the dry, parched earth.  Such a useful analogy lends itself perfectly to the speaker’s purpose, which remains before him as a shining goal—he must continue to create his masterful little dramas.

    The talented speaker says that he is so dependent on his muse that he must make a mighty effort to calm himself in the presence of this belovèd inspirer.  He knows how profound his life has remained simply because of his considerable talent.  He also has become aware of his great debt to the Giver of all talents.  

    If this speaker fails to engage productively with his God-given talent, he fears ultimate failure.  The center of his life is his writing, his ability to produce significant, substantial art that will become and remain important to generations hence.  The musing speaker likens his relationship with his muse to that of a “miser and his wealth.”  

    Thus the speaker is humbly deprecating himself to show that he knows he is not entirely responsible for his considerable gifts. However, despite those gifts, the speaker still has to strive to remain evenminded in his passion for creating.  

    He could become so flustered by doubt and fear of failure that he could disgrace himself.  He, therefore, reminds himself from time to time that he must maintain his equilibrium. A too nearly perfect life would distill a dullness in this speaker; so while showing gratitude for his talent, he must also constantly strive to overcome his flaws. 

    On the one hand, he does comprehend that his life is hardly perfect, but on the other hand, he knows that his talent places his stature well above other artists.  He must constantly strive for balance and harmony to produce the peace of mind allowing him to create.

    Second Quatrain:  The Art of Precision

    Now proud as an enjoyer, and anon
    Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure;
    Now counting best to be with you alone,
    Then better’d that the world may see my pleasure:

    The speaker then avers that he is proud to be able to enjoy his ability to commune with his fecund muse, but he admits that he still suffers doubts that his ability will always remain as strong and vibrant as he is now experiencing.  

    The speaker’s humanness always demonstrates that he never becomes so self-important as to think he is more than a striving artist, despite the unique muse he has attracted.  This speaker’s ability to remain humble while castigating himself for over-weaning pride actually infuses his art with precision.

    The striving speaker badly needs to be precise in pursuing the qualities he most admires—truth, beauty, and love.  Those three attributes have become a virtual holy trinity for this practicing artist-poet. 

    As an artist, this speaker remains steadfast in his zeal to portray those qualities in an honest but colorful array of works.  Without doubt, he is thinking of his sonnets as he muses on such issues, but also there is no doubt that he includes in his thoughts his plays and other long poems.

    Third Quatrain:  Opposing States of Mind

    Sometime, all full with feasting on your sight,
    And by and by clean starved for a look;
    Possessing or pursuing no delight,
    Save what is had or must from you be took.

    In the third quatrain, the speaker reports his opposing states of mind:  sometimes he is able to “feast” on the muse’s bounty, and other times he is “starved” for the sight her.  All artists experience such states. Creativity may seem to flow unfettered at certain unplanned times.

    But then the dreaded dry periods arrive, and nothing seems to avail.  During the dry periods, the artist feels that he has to strain for inspiration, that he has to try to take whatever he can get from the unyielding muse. 

    Interestingly, the muse of this speaker never remains absent for long, as he is able to create his fine little songs even in the face of a dry spell.  He is so determined that he has become capable of creating colorful pieces that take for their subject his carping and complaining.  Even as he is showing his contradictory nature, he is able provoke that muse into action, and that action always results in first rate work.

    The Couplet:  Two Mental Dramas

    Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day,
     Or gluttoning on all, or all away.

    The speaker ends his musing on a plaintive note, saying that from day to day, he is tossed between those two states of mind:  inspiration and lack thereof.   The speaker remains at times like a glutton and at other times like a man starving. 

    The dualities of life are ever present, even for a divinely inspired artist whose talent is considerable. The artist who has become aware that life is composed of dualities will always have a leg up on those who have not entertained thoughts on the workings of that dual factuality of living.  

    The mayic world of delusion cannot hem round the deep thinking individual, and if an artist is not as deep thinking as he is creatively skillful, his talent will appear to remain meager despite the size and scope of his output.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 76 “Why is my verse so barren of new pride”

    The speaker in sonnet 76 “Why is my verse so barren of new pride”explores and dramatizes the fact that he always writes about one subject:  his writing talent, which he calls his love.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 76 “Why is my verse so barren of new pride”

    This sonnet attests to the fact that the writer of the Shakespeare works has studied classical rhetoric.  He uses the term “invention” which in classical rhetoric is the method for discovering a subject for composition.   And he employs the term “argument” which means subject or content.  

    This knowledge possessed by the writer of these sonnets offers further evidence for the claim that the highly educated Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford was the actual writer of the works attributed to Gulielmus Shakspere of Stratford-upon-Avon—”William Shakespeare”— who attained little formal learning after leaving grammar school.

    One misidentifying biographer has remarked, “It is amazing that William Shakespeare achieved so much after leaving school at the age of fourteen – with only seven years of formal education!”   That would be “amazing” indeed, but the fact is that the man known as William Shakespeare is not likely the writer of the works attributed to him.  

    Recent research scholarship points increasing to the fact that the real “William Shakespeare” is Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford, and the label “William Shakespeare” is the nom de plume employed by the earl.

    Sonnet 76 “Why is my verse so barren of new pride”

    Why is my verse so barren of new pride
    So far from variation or quick change?
    Why with the time do I not glance aside
    To new-found methods and to compounds strange?  
    Why write I still all one, ever the same,
    And keep invention in a noted weed,  
    That every word doth almost tell my name,
    Showing their birth, and where they did proceed?
    O! know, sweet love, I always write of you,  
    And you and love are still my argument;
    So all my best is dressing old words new,
    Spending again what is already spent:
      For as the sun is daily new and old,  
      So is my love still telling what is told.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 76 “Why is my verse so barren of new pride”

    The speaker in sonnet 76 “Why is my verse so barren of new pride” explores and dramatizes the fact that he always writes about one subject:  his writing talent, which he calls his love.

    First Quatrain:  Posing Questions

    Why is my verse so barren of new pride
    So far from variation or quick change?
    Why with the time do I not glance aside
    To new-found methods and to compounds strange?

    In the first quatrain, the speaker poses a compound questions:  why do I fail to fill my sonnets with pride? and why do I continue to examine the same issues again and again?  He wonders why his sonnets are always exploring the same subject and theme, without any variance of notice.  

    Then the speaker asks his second question:  why do I continue to look straight a head instead of glancing about for novelty and depth?   He then asks why he never seems to look anywhere for inspiration other than his accustomed place.   

    This speaker never explores any new manner of expression or any other “compounds strange,” or other subjects.   The reader who has examined all of the sonnets from 1 through 75 can well understand these queries.  

    The speaker/writer has used only one form, the sonnet, and while the sonnets are traditionally sectioned into three subject areas by academics, a closer look can reveal that all, indeed, focus on the same general area:  the poet’s talent and love of writing. 

    Second Quatrain:  Continuing to Question

    Why write I still all one, ever the same,
    And keep invention in a noted weed,  
    That every word doth almost tell my name,
    Showing their birth, and where they did proceed?

    In the second quatrain, the speaker continues with another question, which essentially is a reiteration of the first two.  He wonders why his writing is “ever the same.”  He never departs from his theme and never attempts to “invent” new subjects matter to dress in a new fashioned way.   This speaker “keep[s] invention in a noted weed”—the same subject dressed in the same clothing or sonnet form.

    The speaker then says that, “every word doth almost tell my name.”  This claim accurately reports that fact that an artist’s writing is as unique for identification as a fingerprint.   The clever speaker avers that everything he writes demonstrates the same origin and the same progress.

    Third Quatrain:   Same Subject, Different Viewpoint

    O! know, sweet love, I always write of you,  
    And you and love are still my argument;
    So all my best is dressing old words new,
    Spending again what is already spent:

    Then the speaker addresses his “sweet love” and remarks, “I always write of you.”   The speaker adds that, “you and love are still my argument.”  He dramatically confesses that his one subject is all he cares about, and he spends his time “dressing old words new” and “[s]ending again what is already spent.”  The speaker has no qualms about his seeming repetitiveness.  He loves and understands his subject so well that he can present it from any number of viewpoints.

    The Couplet:   Like the Sun—Old and New

      For as the sun is daily new and old,  
      So is my love still telling what is told.

    The couplet likens the speaker’s “love” to the sun, which is always the same yet still “daily new.”   The speaker tells “what is told” and by the retelling makes his love new.  He reveals that his considerable talent has afforded him the process for experiencing new joy in perpetuity.

    The speaker’s story, even as it seems to remain the same, becomes new through the speaker’s ingenuity and because of his intense, abiding love of his main subject. Thus, this speaker is engulfed in ever new joy, as he continues to create and re-create his little dramas filled with lovely images that represent his favorite love thoughts.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 77 “Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear

    The speaker in sonnet 77 Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wearis conversing with his poetself, reminding that self of the importance of his continued artistic endeavors. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 77 “Thy glass will show thee how thybeauties wear”

    In sonnet 77 “Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear”from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker is engaging the useful devices of a mirror and the empty pages of a book.  He chooses those two objects in order to motivate himself to keep laboring intensely at his sonnet creation. 

    The speaker is expressing creatively his simple wish to complete a full dramatic record of his thoughts and feelings.   He is endeavoring to create a dramatic memoir to serve as a reminder of his early perceptions of love and truth that he may peruse in his final years. 

    He insists that these mementos remain loyal to truth and reality so they may serve honestly as clear representations of his early perceptions of all that he deems good and beautiful.

    Sonnet 77 “Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear”

    Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear
    Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste;  
    These vacant leaves thy mind’s imprint will bear,
    And of this book this learning mayst thou taste.
    The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show
    Of mouthed graves will give thee memory;
    Thou by thy dial’s shady stealth mayst know
    Time’s thievish progress to eternity.  
    Look! what thy memory cannot contain,
    Commit to these waste blanks, and thou shalt find
    Those children nursed, deliver’d from thy brain,
    To take a new acquaintance of thy mind.  
      These offices, so oft as thou wilt look,
      Shall profit thee and much enrich thy book.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 77 “Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear”  

    The speaker is conversing with himself in this sonnet, which is an installment from “The Muse” thematic group of this sequence.  He is musing intensely and profoundly in order to create a  genuine “poetself,” a place where he can continue to remind his creative faculty of the importance of his work.  He insists that he must continue crafting his fine poems—the ones that will result in his 154-sonnet sequence.

    First Quatrain:  The Poet’s Persona

    Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear
    Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste;  
    These vacant leaves thy mind’s imprint will bear,
    And of this book this learning mayst thou taste.

    The speaker admonishes his poet’s persona that three instruments will keep him informed about his progress:  

    1. his mirror will remind him that he is aging; 
    2. his clock will remind him that he is wasting time, and 
    3. his book with only empty pages will persist in reminding him that he must continue to create and be productive in order to fill those blank pages with “learning.”  

    The creative speaker must continue to produce his sonnets so that he will be able to enjoy his creations into old age.  He has affirmed his ability to create, but because of human inertia and habits of procrastination, he must continually remind himself of his goals.  He has likely already wasted more time than he thinks can afford, but he knows he can persevere if he can muster the proper motivation. 

    The triple prompts of an aging face staring back from the mirror, the fleeting time measured by the clock, and empty pages that he needs to fill seem to be working to urge the speaker on to his creative efforts.

    Second Quatrain:   The Mirror and the Clock

    The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show
    Of mouthed graves will give thee memory;
    Thou by thy dial’s shady stealth mayst know
    Time’s thievish progress to eternity.  

    The speaker then again refers to the mirror and the clock. The mirror will “truly show” “the wrinkles” that will begin developing as the speaker ages, while the clock will keep ticking off the minutes as his life speeds by.  But the mirror can be used as a motivational tool only if the speaker/poet will keep in mind the image of “mouthed graves.”  

    The open grave waits for the speaker who has ceased his work and can no longer create his valuable poems.  The speaker creates such a gruesome image in order to offer himself motivation to spur his inner writer to greater effort that he may stop wasting his precious moments.

    The speaker’s ability to urge himself on corresponds to his ability to fashion his creations.  He has a talent for crafting beautiful, strong sonnets—a fact that has become clear to him.  Now he must intensify his effort to fulfill that talent.  

    This effort requires a different skill but one that he knows is equally important.  A skill unrealized remains as useless as a skill that never existed.  He, therefore, engages every moment and all of his mental energy to make sure he realizes and engages his talent.

    Third Quatrain:   Command to Understand

    Look! what thy memory cannot contain,
    Commit to these waste blanks, and thou shalt find
    Those children nursed, deliver’d from thy brain,
    To take a new acquaintance of thy mind.

    The speaker then shouts a command, “Look!”  He commands his poetself to understand that he will not be able to remember all of the important and fascinating details of this life unless he fashions them into useful artifacts, that is, the sonnets, and “[c]ommits [them] to these waste blanks.”  

    The speaker insists that he must create his works because they are like his children, “deliver’d from [his] brain.”   As the speaker/creator saves his “children” and fashions them into poems he will “take a new acquaintance,” and he will be reminded of his experiences in his old age.

    The speaker appears to be grasping each moment, finding new ways to express ideas that extend universally to all artists.  He has envisioned a world for his art, and he works to build that world with present metaphoric and mystical realities, in order that in his later years he can look back at his works and remember what he thought, how he felt, and even why he works so hard to create that world.

    The Couplet: His Own Enrichment

     These offices, so oft as thou wilt look,
     Shall profit thee and much enrich thy book.

    In the couplet, the speaker concludes his premise that if he makes haste and stays productive, he will be glad and “profit” much from “[his] book.”   The speaker predicts that his enrichment will come from two sources:  (1) the spiritual, which is the most important, and (2) the material, because he will also be able to gain monetarily from the sale of his book.  

    The speaker will “enrich” his memory, his heart and soul, as well as his pocketbook.  The motivation must satisfy the speaker on all levels, if it is to work.   He has noted many times in many sonnets that he is interested in capturing only beauty and truth.

    The speaker knows that only what is true and beautiful will enhance his spirit as he looks back upon his life and his works.  He also knows that this sequence of sonnets will have meaning and value for others also only if the poems contained therein are filled with truth and beauty, qualities with which others can identity.  

    The speaker also knows that folks will not appreciate the vulgar and the mundane as they look to experience through poetry the pure and exceptional.  He remains aware that his exceptional talent has the ability to render him able to create a world that he and others will be capable of appreciating down through the centuries.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 78  “So oft have I invok’d thee for my Muse”

    The speaker in sonnet 78 “So oft have I invok’d thee for my Muse” addresses his muse with appreciation for her ever constant influence and power that elevates his art above lesser artists.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 78: “So oft have I invok’d thee for my Muse”

    The speaker in sonnet 78 “So oft have I invok’d thee for my Muse” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence compares his substantial muse to that of other artists.  He reveals that most examples of the engagement of a muse remains for cosmetic purposes of style and outward appearance in the art.

    This speaker, however, employs his superior muse for the purpose of creating content-rich, vital art filled with his favorite topics: love, beauty, and truth. Instead of merely constructing a beautiful, well-crafted sonnet form, this speaker is dedicated to establishing content of personal and universal substance.   

    This gifted, talent-rich speaker knows he is gifted and talented, he knows he can concoct sonnet forms, but more important for him is that he inform his art with vitally important words of truth.

    Sonnet 78 “So oft have I invok’d thee for my Muse”

    So oft have I invok’d thee for my Muse
    And found such fair assistance in my verse
    As every alien pen hath got my use  
    And under thee their poesy disperse.  
    Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing
    And heavy ignorance aloft to fly,
    Have added feathers to the learned’s wing  
    And given grace a double majesty.
    Yet be most proud of that which I compile,
    Whose influence is thine, and born of thee:
    In others’ works thou dost but mend the style,  
    And arts with thy sweet graces graced be;  
      But thou art all my art, and dost advance  
      As high as learning my rude ignorance.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 78 “So oft have I invok’d thee for my Muse”

    The speaker in sonnet 78 “So oft have I invok’d thee for my Muse” addresses his Muse with appreciation for her ever constant influence and power that elevates his art above lesser artists.

    First Quatrain:  Meshing of Theme and Subject

    So oft have I invok’d thee for my Muse
    And found such fair assistance in my verse
    As every alien pen hath got my use  
    And under thee their poesy disperse.

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 78, the speaker is addressing his subject, “love,” which he reveals that he has so often “invok’d for [his] Muse.”  The sonnets all mesh together the theme and subject, concentrating on the speaker’s talent for poetry creation and his fascination for and interest in “love” and “truth.”  

    At times, the speaker addresses the poem itself and at other times he focuses on his subjects.  Here he is addressing his favorite subject “love.”  The speaker claims that “love” has provided him aid “in [his] verse.”   Other subjects from time to time are attracted to his “alien pen,” but under the influence of love, which he takes as his Muse, he is able to bring forth his “poesy.”

    Second Quatrain:  The Singing of Angels

    Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing
    And heavy ignorance aloft to fly,
    Have added feathers to the learned’s wing  
    And given grace a double majesty.

    The speaker’s favorite subject is akin to the singing of angels; even more astoundingly, the eyes of love have “taught the dumb on high to sing.”   The remarkable healing power of love even teaches “heavy ignorance” “to fly.”  The “lofty” rarified air of love even “add[s] feathers to the learned’s wing.”  Those who are already bright become brilliant through this all pervading, shining love. 

    This love furthermore “give[s] grace a double majesty.”  These hyperbolic statements serve to underscore the exceptional quality of life that true, unconditional love offers as it effects and flourishes in the hands of a master craftsman the art of poetry.

    Third Quatrain: Pride of Accomplishment

    Yet be most proud of that which I compile,
    Whose influence is thine, and born of thee:
    In others’ works thou dost but mend the style,  
    And arts with thy sweet graces graced be;

    The speaker then imparts to his Muse, his love, that she can be “proud” of what the speaker does in her favor; his Muse remains the “influence.”  His inspiration has always come directly from the Muse.   

    The speaker’s Muse can experience pride in the knowledge of all the positive creations she has assisted him in creating.  They will forever remain brilliant examples of the high quality of this Muse.

    While comparing his inspiration from his Muse to that of other artists, this superior, talented speaker deems the others to lack substance.  In other poets’ art, the Muse serves simply to correct “style,” and even though the Muse’s “grace” may be well represented, it lacks the substance of the accomplished craftsman.

    The Couplet:   Style and Substance

    But thou art all my art, and dost advance  
      As high as learning my rude ignorance.

    The speaker reveals the difference between mere style and substance.  While other artists rely on the Muse for cosmetic purposes, this speaker says, “thou art all my art.”   This gifted speaker’s art represents all aspects of the Muse’s power, and thus his art “do[th] advance / As high as learning my rude ignorance.”   As usual, the speaker remains humble, giving credit to higher power, for he, as a poor servant, must always remain in certain “rude ignorance.” 

    Shakespeare Sonnet 79 “Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid”

    While this Shakespearean speaker waits for what he believes to be true inspiration, he goes ahead and writes whatever he can to keep his creative juices flowing. The speaker of sonnet 79 addresses his muse directly, sorting out once again his own contribution from that of the muse.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 79 “Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid”

    The speaker in the “Muse Sonnets” sequence from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence has repeatedly demonstrated his deep obsession with poetry creation.  It is, indeed, ironic that he finds he can write even about complaining about not being able to write.   This kind of devotion and determination finds expression over and over again.  

    While this speaker waits for what he believes to be true inspiration, he goes ahead and writes whatever he can to keep his creative juices flowing. The speaker of sonnet 79 “Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid” is addressing his muse directly, attempting to sort out once again his own individual offerings from that of the muse’s contributions.

    Sonnet 79 “Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid”

    Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid  
    My verse alone had all thy gentle grace;
    But now my gracious numbers are decay’d,
    And my sick muse doth give an other place.
    I grant, sweet love, thy lovely argument
    Deserves the travail of a worthier pen;
    Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent
    He robs thee of, and pays it thee again.
    He lends thee virtue, and he stole that word
    From thy behaviour; beauty doth he give,
    And found it in thy cheek; he can afford
    No praise to thee but what in thee doth live.
      Then thank him not for that which he doth say,
      Since what he owes thee thou thyself dost pay.

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    Commentary on “Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid”

    The speaker of sonnet 79 “Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid” is once again directly facing his muse, as he attempts to sort out his own contribution from the inspirational contribution of the muse.  Making such fine distinctions helps generate drama as well as useful images with which to create his sonnets.

    First Quatrain:  Bereft of the Muse

    Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid  
    My verse alone had all thy gentle grace;
    But now my gracious numbers are decay’d,
    And my sick muse doth give an other place.

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 79, the speaker declares that when he has depended solely on his muse for writing his sonnets, the poems professed the “gentle grace” that belongs to that muse.

    But the speaker now finds himself bereft of his muse, that is, another one of those pesky periods of low inspiration is assailing him.  His “sick muse” is letting him down, and he is failing to accumulate the number of sonnets he wishes to produce.

    Writers have to write, and when they are faced with a blank page that seems to want to remain silent, they must cajole and pester their thought processes in order to find some prompt that will motivate the images, ideas, and context to produce the desired texts.  

    This speaker faces his muse—which is his own soul/mental awareness—and demands results.  His determination always results in product; thus he has learned never to stay silent for long.  His clever talents seem to be always equal to the task of creativity.

    Second Quatrain:  Search for a Better Argument 

    I grant, sweet love, thy lovely argument
    Deserves the travail of a worthier pen;
    Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent
    He robs thee of, and pays it thee again.

    The speaker, who is an obsessed poet, admits that “sweet love” deserves a better “argument” than he is presently capable of providing.  He knows that such work demands “a worthier pen,”  but when the speaker finds himself in such a dry state, destitute of creative juices, he simply has to ransack his earlier work to “pay[ ] it thee again.” 

    To be able to offer at least some token, the speaker has to “rob” what the muse had earlier given him.  The act does not make him happy, but he feels that he must do something other than whine and mope.  

    Making his own works new again, however, results in a freshness that will work time and time again, but only if it can pass the poet’s own smell test.  He will not allow warmed over, obviously stale images to infect his creations.

    Third Quatrain: Crediting the Muse

    He lends thee virtue, and he stole that word
    From thy behaviour; beauty doth he give,
    And found it in thy cheek; he can afford
    No praise to thee but what in thee doth live.

    Even such a thieving poet “lends thee virtue.”  The speaker metaphorically likens his reliance on the muse to the crime of theft, but he makes it clear that he gives the muse all of the credit for his ability even to steal.   It is the music unity of “behaviour” and “beauty” that lend this speaker his talents.

    The speaker says he cannot accept praise for any of the works, because they all come from the muse:  they are “what in thee doth live.”  His talent and his inspiration that find happy expression in his works he always attributes to his muse.   On those occasions that the speaker becomes too full of himself, he pulls back humbly, even though he knows he has let the cat out of the bag.

    The Couplet:  Undeserving of Music Gratitude

    Then thank him not for that which he doth say,
      Since what he owes thee thou thyself dost pay.

    Finally, the speaker avers that he is not deserving of any gratitude or even consideration by the muse.  He insists, “what he owes thee thou thyself dost pay.”  All that the speaker may owe his muse is already contained in that muse, including any gratitude he may want to express.   

    Such a description of his “muse” indicates that the speaker knows the muse is none other than his own Divine Creator.  His humble nature allows him to construct his sonnets as prayers, which he can offer to his Divine Belovèd.

    The distinction between Creator and creation remains a nebulous one.  There always seems to be a difference without an actual difference—or perhaps a distinction without a difference.  What is united cannot be divided unless the human mind divides them. 

    The writer, especially the creative writer, has to understand, appreciate, and then be able to manipulate the Creator/creation unity if he is to continue creating.   This Shakespearean speaker understands that relationship better than most writers who have even written; that understanding is responsible for the durability and classic status of the Shakespeare canon.

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    Shakespeare Sonnet 80 “O! how I faint when I of you do write”

    The speaker in sonnet 80 “O! how I faint when I of you do write” is once again examining the nature of his most important subject, love, in regard to his talent, as he recognizes the intervention of not only the muse, but also the Divine Muse or Spirit-God.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 80 “O! how I faint when I of you do write”

    In sonnet 80 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker is addressing God (or the Divine Muse), although he never uses any term to indicate so, except for the word “spirit” in the first quatrain, which is here referring to the individual soul.  The speaker uses the same technique that he has employed before:  he segments his “self ” into parts in order to praise while still remaining humble. 

    The speaker is undoubtedly aware of the concept of the religious trinity which explains the nature of the Divine Creator’s Ultimate Reality as tripartite: the force outside of nature, the force informing nature, and the force inside of nature.   The Hindus refer to this force as Sat-Tat-Aum, and the tradition of the Judeo-Christian religion refers to it as “Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.” 

    Sonnet 80 “O! how I faint when I of you do write”

    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 wrack’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.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 80 “O! how I faint when I of you do write”

    This speaker is reminding his inner self of the most important aspects of his God-given talent.  He knows the importance of maintaining a level of humbleness that will allow him to continue to perfect and keep his works genuine and guileless.

    First Quatrain: A Humble Weakness

    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!

    In the first quatrain, the speaker exclaims,”O! How I faint when I of you do write.”  He is overcome with a weakness that keeps him humble.   This speaker is essentially dividing his consciousness into two parts, referring to one as “I” and the other as “he.”   The “better spirit” refers to the muse or his native talent; he separates his various “selves” in order to explore them.  

    The entity becomes tripartite, representing the physical, mental, and spiritual levels of being that all unite to produce fine art. The speaker’s self qua self becomes “tongue-tied” when “speaking of the fame” of the Over-Soul’s Divinity.  

    He spends “all of his might” praising the Divine, and thus he transforms into a humble servant as he compares his lesser talents to those of God, or the Over-Soul or Super Muse.

    Second Quatrain:  Litotes of Reason

    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.

    The speaker then avers that the value of the Divine is “wide as the ocean,” clearly an understatement (litotes of classical rhetoric), yet suitable for his purposes.   The humble speaker then metaphorically likens himself to a small boat which competes with a much larger vessel.

    The speaker asserts that the Divine includes and recognizes all from the humblest to the “proudest.”  His own small boat, which he labels a “saucy bark” and claims its inferiority, still finds favor enough to “appear” with the “proudest” on this all-encompassing sea.   This sea, of course, metaphorically represents the art world and by extension the entire cosmos.

    Third Quatrain:   Muse Inspired Grace 

    Your shallowest help will hold me up afloat,
    Whilst he upon your soundless deep doth ride;
    Or, being wrack’d, I am a worthless boat,  
    He of tall building and of goodly pride:

    Addressing the Divine, the speaker avers that even the smallest aid offered by His Greatness “will hold me up afloat.”  This upliftment happens simultaneously with his other self “rid[ing]” “upon your soundless deep.”  

    While the muse remains silent, the speaker is permitted voice by the same grace that creates the muse and his own creative self. The talented speaker thus demonstrates the unity of the muse and his own creative self, even as he has separated them, merely for the purpose of examining them. 

    Again, the speaker displays his humility by claiming, “I am a worthless boat,” and at the same time averring, “He (his “self” that functions as the muse) appears “of tall building and of goodly pride.”   This convenient splitting allows the speaker to remain humble yet retain his pride.

    The Couplet:  A Triumvirate of Self

    Then if he thrive and I be cast away,
    The worst was this;—my love was my decay.

    The couplet binds the tripartite self together again with the speaker’s usual and most important subject—”love.”  If the writing self, who is the most ordinary self, fails while his muse succeeds, then the ordinary self gets the better part of it all because he has remained true to his love, and they continue united as they venture forth aging together.

    The speaker may at times find himself leaning in a direction that he does not find helpful.  As he becomes too proud of his own abilities, he knows that he must temper that pride in order to remain open to possibilities for his creations.   He depends on the Great Muse—or God—and he continues to remind himself that his accomplishments remain dependent on his Creator.

    Although this speaker never becomes overly solicitous through his prayers, he nevertheless offers the kinds of prayers that are indistinguishable from clarified dramatic performances.  

    He uses his talent to praise his Creator in ways that remain unique to his own individual talent.  He knows well that he must remain humble, and as he continues to pursue his art, he also continues to pursue his path through life that leads to better, more informed art.  

    This talented, sincere speaker has long eschewed the fake and paltry puffery in favor of genuine works that will become classic as they portray what is real and lasting for each human heart and mind.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 81 “Or I shall live your epitaph to make”

    Sonnet 81 “Or I shall live your epitaph to make” offers a glowing tribute to the speaker’s poems.  He often extols the virtue of his own poetry because he is certain it will live long after he is gone.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 81 “Or I shall live your epitaph to make”

    In sonnet 81 “Or I shall live your epitaph to make” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker addresses his poem, as he often does.  In this sonnet, the speaker is celebrating his gifts and offering a magnificent, glowing tribute to the poems themselves.   

    This speaker has often extolled the virtue of his own poetry because he is certain his creative compositions will live long after he has shuffled off the mortal coil.  Now the speaker chooses to place the poems themselves, indeed, he even gives a nod to his plays, in the spotlight and shower on them the immortality that the feels they will experience.

    Sonnet 81 “Or I shall live your epitaph to make”

    Or I shall live your epitaph to make
    Or you survive when I in earth am rotten;  
    From hence your memory death cannot take,
    Although in me each part will be forgotten.
    Your name from hence immortal life shall have,
    Though I, once gone, to all the world must die:  
    The earth can yield me but a common grave,
    When you entombed in men’s eyes shall lie.
    Your monument shall be my gentle verse,  
    Which eyes not yet created shall o’er-read;
    And tongues to be your being shall rehearse,
    When all the breathers of this world are dead;
      You still shall live,—such virtue hath my pen,—
      Where breath most breathes,—even in the mouths of men.

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    Commentary on Shakespeare Sonnet 81 “Or I shall live your epitaph to make”

    Sonnet 81 “Or I shall live your epitaph to make” offers a glowing tribute to the speaker’s poems.  He often extols the virtue of his own poetry because he is certain it will live long after he left the world.

    First Quatrain:  Posing Two Ideas

    Or I shall live your epitaph to make
    Or you survive when I in earth am rotten;  
    From hence your memory death cannot take,
    Although in me each part will be forgotten.

    In the first quatrain, the speaker proposes two ideas:  he will live to write the epitaph for his poetry, or his poetry will outlive him.   The speaker chooses to believe and act on the latter because “From hence your memory death cannot take.” 

    Even though the speaker, who lives in a physical body, must eventually die, death cannot take away his sonnets once he has written them.   While the writer of the sonnets will be forgotten, the works themselves will remain eternally.

    Second Quatrain:   Naming His Art

    Your name from hence immortal life shall have,
    Though I, once gone, to all the world must die:  
    The earth can yield me but a common grave,
    When you entombed in men’s eyes shall lie. 

    After having finished composition of each sonnet, the speaker christens the work, giving it a name, and he confidently proclaims “your name from hence immortal life shall have.”   This speaker has often shown his confidence in his talent, and he has often demonstrated his heavy reliance on his poetic muse. 

    The speaker then remarks that while his earthly flesh must be buried in that earth, his sublime poetry will live “in men’s eyes.”   The interesting metaphor of likening the poetry to the entombed body generates the opposite reality.  The poetry is not “entombed” but is full of vibrant life.

    Third Quatrain:   Poetic Monument

    Your monument shall be my gentle verse,  
    Which eyes not yet created shall o’er-read;
    And tongues to be your being shall rehearse,
    When all the breathers of this world are dead;

    The poetry will be a monument to the poet, but more importantly, it will be a monument to itself.  The speaker calls his poetry “gentle verse.”  And the speaker then indicates that it is being written for “eyes not yet created.”  The speaker often projects his thoughts far into the future.

    Not only will eyes play lovingly over this speaker’s “gentle verse,” but also “tongues to be your being shall rehearse.”  The speaker seems to be referring not only to his sonnets but also to his plays, which, of course, continue even today to be performed world-wide.

    The Couplet:  Art Outliving Artist

      You still shall live,—such virtue hath my pen,—
      Where breath most breathes,—even in the mouths of men.

    The speaker dramatizes the future of his poems in the couplet.  When all the people who are living at the time of the speaker have vanished, he is confident that his poetic works “still shall live.”  It is by “virtue” of his “pen” that such a phenomenon can occur.  He believes the poems as they will be spoken and read by future generations will have even more life than he could ever envision.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 82 “I grant thou wert not married to my Muse”

    In sonnet 82 “I grant thou wert not married to my Muse,” the speaker is addressing his favorite subject, which is “love,” as he dramatizes the superior nature that this subject offers to his art.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 82 “I grant thou wert not married to my Muse”

    Sonnet 82 “I grant thou wert not married to my Muse” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence finds the speaker doing what he does best: dramatizing the nature of his favorite subject and how it infuses his own craft with the delicious qualities of truth and beauty. 

    This speaker continues to demonstrate his love for his own talent, his Muse, and creations.  He especially holds originality in high regard.  His God-given (Muse-driven) talent affords him the ability to detect and distinguished the genuine from the fake in art.

    Sonnet 82 “I grant thou wert not married to my Muse”

    I grant thou wert not married to my Muse
    And therefore mayst without attaint o’erlook
    The dedicated words which writers use
    Of their fair subject, blessing every book.
    Thou art as fair in knowledge as in hue,
    Finding thy worth a limit past my praise;
    And therefore art enforc’d to seek anew
    Some fresher stamp of the time-bettering days.
    And do so, love; yet when they have devis’d
    What strained touches rhetoric can lend,
    Thou truly fair wert truly sympathized
    In true plain words by thy true-telling friend;
      And their gross painting might be better used  
      Where cheeks need blood; in thee it is abus’d.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 82 “I grant thou wert not married to my Muse”

    In Sonnet 82 “I grant thou wert not married to my Muse,” this speaker  is demonstrating his love for his own talent, his Muse, and creations.  He especially holds originality in high regard.

    First Quatrain:  Distinction between Muse and Love

    I grant thou wert not married to my Muse
    And therefore mayst without attaint o’erlook
    The dedicated words which writers use
    Of their fair subject, blessing every book.

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 82, the speaker is  again addressing his favorite subject “love.”  And he is telling love that he knows his favorite subject and his “Muse” are not the same or even closely linked as by marriage.  Because the Muse does not align herself irrevocable with any particular subject, theme, or topic, the writer’s inspiration and subject matter do not taint each other.

    If the writer praises one, he is not necessarily praising the other.  Writers will always be “blessing every book.”  But their subject and their Muse are not always equal in their production and therefore cannot partake of equal appreciation.  

    The writer alone decides to whom he will offer his gratitude for any particular piece of work.  The speaker is affirming his autonomy, even as he grants that his Muse remains vital in his quest to create useful dramas.

    Second Quatrain:  The Beauty of Love

    Thou art as fair in knowledge as in hue,
    Finding thy worth a limit past my praise;
    And therefore art enforc’d to seek anew
    Some fresher stamp of the time-bettering days.

    The speaker then alerts love that it is “as fair in knowledge as in hue.”  He is asserting that the beauty of love lies not only in its outward expression but also primarily in its knowledge.   Love’s value exceeds the ability of the speaker to praise it.  The writer who falls in love with love will seek answers to earthly questions as he seeks, “Some fresher stamp of the time-bettering days.”  

    The original writer will not be satisfied by merely copying others but will be motivated by the ever-new inspiration that love continuously infuses into his vision.   Such a writer does not wait for the Muse, and readers will have noted this trait in this speaker’s method.  

    He writes even when he feels he has nothing to write about except to complain that he cannot write.  Such depth and strength of talent seldom ever fail to assist him in producing his colorful pieces.

    Third Quatrain:   Straining Rhetoric

    And do so, love; yet when they have devis’d
    What strained touches rhetoric can lend,
    Thou truly fair wert truly sympathized
    In true plain words by thy true-telling friend;

    Love works in a similar fashion.  Even as those who formulated the rules of rhetoric have warned against the “strained touches” that the art of rhetoric can offer, love still remains true.  

    The speaker then drives his claim home by using the rhetorical device called repetition in the line, “Thou truly fair wert truly sympathized / In true plain words by thy true-telling friend.”

    This highly educated and perceptive speaker employs the term “truly” twice and its root “true” twice in the two lines.  Through this rhetorical device of repetition, he is emphasizing his stance that “love” and “truth” are, in fact, married, or unified for him.

    The Couplet:  Poetry and Painting

      And their gross painting might be better used  
      Where cheeks need blood; in thee it is abus’d.

    In the couplet, the speaker compares his sonnet to a painting, which has to use gross physical forms, where the painter must put blood in the cheek of his subject.  But such grossness is not required for the written word.

    And this speaker avers that in the sonnet “it is abus’d.”   Too physical a subject abuses the spirituality with which the subjects “love” and “truth” endow his art.  Thus the speaker has again touted his own talent, while praising and showing gratitude for his Muse.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 83 “I never saw that you did painting need”

    The speaker in sonnet 83 “I never saw that you did painting need” again offers a tribute to his poetry, as he dramatizes the nature of poetry cosmetics pitted against profound insight and inspiration.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 83 “I never saw that you did painting need”

    In sonnet 83 “I never saw that you did painting need” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, this gifted speaker asserts his desire to remain a humble servant of truth.  His desire to offer only beauty that bespeaks sincere love will guide him to create honest art. 

    This speaker is aware that many artists turn to flattering language to fill their poems with tinsel and tinker.  This speaker/poet dramatizes the nature of a humble heart that is aware of its gifts, but he remains insistent that he will use his considerable gifts to create only works that represent truth and beauty.  His art is his love, as he has many times proclaimed.

    This speaker seems to be taking a vow or making a pact with his readers that his works will always strive to represent only the most profound subjects.  He will reveal his subjects in their own brilliant light and not add glitter to falsely enhance them. 

    This poet-speaker knows that he possesses the ability to accomplish all of his worthy goals for his writing because he knows how deeply he loves his art as well as the qualities of divine love, truth, and beauty that he seeks for living his life.

    Sonnet 83 “I never saw that you did painting need” 

    I never saw that you did painting need
    And therefore to your fair no painting set;
    I found, or thought I found, you did exceed
    That barren tender of a poet’s debt:  
    And therefore have I slept in your report,
    That you yourself, being extant, well might show
    How far a modern quill doth come too short,
    Speaking of worth, what worth in you doth grow.
    This silence for my sin you did impute,
    Which shall be most my glory, being dumb;
    For I impair not beauty being mute,
    When others would give life, and bring a tomb.  
      There lives more life in one of your fair eyes
      Than both your poets can in praise devise.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 83 “I never saw that you did painting need”

    The speaker in sonnet 83 is offering a heartfelt tribute to his own poetry.  Also, he is revealing and dramatizing the harm that mere cosmetics smeared over simplistic, artificial fakery causes, as such harm damages and prevents profundity from taking center stage.

    First Quatrain:   No Mere Cosmetics

    I never saw that you did painting need
    And therefore to your fair no painting set;
    I found, or thought I found, you did exceed
    That barren tender of a poet’s debt:  

    Once again, addressing his poetry, the speaker-poet avers that he has never engaged in mere cosmetic dressing for his poems.  He has always believed that his subjects of love, beauty, and truth provide the profundity that his creations need.   

    This speaker believes that he, as a poet, owes a debt to his audience, and this speaker vows that he will always pay that debt.  Unlike many superficial poets, this poet-speaker will not condescend to use poetic devices such as metaphor, simile, and image for mere window dressing.  

    His work will always reflect his dedication to heartfelt art produced by a genuinely workable method.  It is because of this dedication to his art that he bitterly complains from time to time about his periods of dryness—times when he feels abandoned by his muse.  

    Although his basic premise may be based upon a complaint, he still manages to create a unique little drama that not only reveals his issue but always at the same time also demonstrates the profound nature of his suffering.

    Second Quatrain:   The Shallow “Moderns”

    And therefore have I slept in your report,
    That you yourself, being extant, well might show
    How far a modern quill doth come too short,
    Speaking of worth, what worth in you doth grow.

    Every time period has its genuinely talented artists as well as its less talented and even its poetasters and other fakes or pretenders.    Even as the contemporaries of the genuine artists fall into the genuine vs the fraudulent categories, the “modern” way always brings with it those shallow writers who depend upon disingenuousness and cosmetic touches to make their poetry appear original, even as it merely shows pretension and conformity.   

    Such a situation can be seen in poets who become critics in order to make a case for their own poetry.   A present-day example of this debauchery presents itself in the highly overrated poet and essayist, Robert Bly, who has fabricated the idea of “picturism” to support his false definition of imagism. 

    Such artists behave like adolescents, who must change their style out of an ignorant rebellion and an immature attempt to belong to something they do not completely understand.   Instead of studying the nature of love, beauty, spirituality, and truth, they are content to dabble in “worth[less]” pursuits that lead to counterfeit art. 

    Third Quatrain:   Base Instincts

    This silence for my sin you did impute,
    Which shall be most my glory, being dumb;
    For I impair not beauty being mute,
    When others would give life, and bring a tomb.  

    The poem may seem to impart “silence for my sin,” but for those speakers, who limit their intentions to base instincts, this speaker understands that they “impair not beauty being mute.”   

    This sincere speaker’s own poems will sing with “life,” while the superficial will “bring a tomb.”  The speaker’s passion for life will live in his works because he has struggled to maintain his integrity, while paying homage to his own considerable talents.  

    The repetition of his subjects will not be taken as “dumb” but will “be most my glory.”  While this speaker may run the risk of sounding as if he were dabbling in mere braggadocio, he knows his genuine feelings will allow him to escape such a charge.  He also knows the depth and breadth of his own talent for drama creating, and he is convinced that his artistic bravado will remain strong as well as accurate and genuine.

    The Couplet:  Poetry of the Profound

      There lives more life in one of your fair eyes
      Than both your poets can in praise devise.

    The speaker declares that his own poetry, because of the profound history, philosophy, and spirituality he has struggled to place into it, will contain “more life” than that of any two less honest poets.  

    The speaker takes such honor for himself only in that he has been able to assist his own poems into creation.   This speaker’s humility can be achieved by the very talent that could, in a less realized poet, give rise to a presumptuous pride.

    The overzealous fakes will always out themselves through their inability to remain consistent, as well as their through their vain attempts to make the vulgar and profane sound profound and sacred.  

    Readers who appreciate fine art will always be able to distinguish between the genuine and the bogus.  This speaker maintains confidence in both his own ability to write and the ability of his readers to read, understand, and appreciate the depth and value of his works.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 84 “Who is it that says most? which can say more”

    The speaker in Shakespeare Sonnet 84 “Who is it that says most? which can say more”is examining the true ground of art, which is the human soul.  He avers that the truth of the soul is indispensable for artists who aspire to be genuine.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 84 “Who is it that says most? which can say more”

    The speaker in sonnet 84 “Who is it that says most? which can say more” is once again exploring the nature of the genuine vs fake art.  He contends that each human soul’s abundance of truth provides the repository from which all artists may partake in producing their works.

    This speaker believes that only genuine feeling can produce useful, effective, beautiful art.  His interest in pursuing the reality of truth and beauty continue to motivate his poetics and its exploration.

    Sonnet 84 “Who is it that says most? which can say more”

    Who is it that says most? which can say more
    Than this rich praise,—that you alone are you?
    In whose confine immured is the store
    Which should example where your equal grew.
    Lean penury within that pen doth dwell
    That to his subject lends not some small glory;
    But he that writes of you, if he can tell
    That you are you, so dignifies his story,
    Let him but copy what in you is writ,
    Not making worse what nature made so clear,
    And such a counterpart shall fame his wit,
    Making his style admired every where.
    You to your beauteous blessings add a curse,
    Being fond on praise, which makes your praises worse.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 84 “Who is it that says most? which can say more”

    The speaker examines the true ground of art, which is the human soul.  He contends that the truth of the soul is indispensable for artists who aspire to be genuine.

    First Quatrain:  A Two Pronged Question

    Who is it that says most? which can say more
    Than this rich praise,—that you alone are you?
    In whose confine immured is the store
    Which should example where your equal grew.

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 84, the speaker begins with a two-part question:  Who is capable of producing the brightest discourse? and who can produces more than that produced by the genuine?

    The speaker is addressing his soul, the life force that makes each human being unique, as he has many times before, and with his rhetorical question asserts that the greatest praise one can receive is the recognition of one’s uniqueness.

    The speaker then insists that each individual contains the seeds for his own growth.  His art production will “equal” the value of the individual’s worth because each person is unique.  The speaker, of course, is examining his own uniqueness specifically, but his claims also flourish to universality through his broad scope and study.

    Second Quatrain:  A Poor Writer

    Lean penury within that pen doth dwell
    That to his subject lends not some small glory;
    But he that writes of you, if he can tell
    That you are you, so dignifies his story,

    The speaker then asserts that the writer who cannot afford “some small glory” to his own soul is, indeed, a poor writer.  The reader has become well aware that the speaker’s obsession with the art of writing dominates his musings.  This talented speaker has intuitively grasped that the soul is the true creator, being a spark of the Supreme Creator.

    Therefore, the speaker can say with certainty that if the writer will contact his soul, he will find that his work “dignifies his story.”  The speaker, however, does also insist that the writer must be able to distinguish the soul from the ego; the writer must be able to “tell / That you are you.”

    Third Quatrain:  From the Soul

    Let him but copy what in you is writ,
    Not making worse what nature made so clear,
    And such a counterpart shall fame his wit,
    Making his style admired every where.

    The speaker claims that all the writer has to do is “copy what in [the soul] is writ.”  The soul is the repository of all knowledge, and if the writer will contact the soul, he will never be guilty of “making worse what nature made so clear.”   And furthermore, that soul-writer’s style will be “admired every where.” 

    The speaker, as the reader has discovered in many of the sonnets, is most interested in truth, beauty, and love.   And as such a genuine of the true and beautiful, this speaker continues to castigate poetasters for their betrayal of truth.

    This speaker also has on many occasions rebuked pretenders who use poetic devices as mere cosmetics.  This speaker holds special scorn for those who abuse love.  In this sonnet, the speaker is especially concerned with truth; he insists that soul knowledge is the answer to the opening question.

    The Couplet:  Ego Failure

    You to your beauteous blessings add a curse,
    Being fond on praise, which makes your praises worse.

    In the couplet, the speaker scolds the ego, who, when it fails to attend the soul, “add[s] a curse” to its own “beauteous blessings.”  And when the ego allows itself to become inebriated “on praise,” the resulting art becomes inferior.  If such art is praised, it is done so by sycophants, not true art lovers.

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    Shakespeare Sonnet 85 “My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still

    The speaker of all the Shakespeare sonnets has honed a skill in praising his own talent while appearing to remain humble.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 85 “My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still”

    In sonnet 85 “My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker virtually lauds his own poems while humbly attributing their worth to the muse, who remains visibly humble. 

    This speaker has devised many little dramas in which he has shown that his humility can remain intact while at the same time demonstrate that he knows his work is outstanding. The speaker can assert his worth while at the same time dramatize his inner humbleness that remains clothed in gratitude.

    The speaker often pries apart his trinity of theme—truth, beauty, love—in order to explore each quality in depth.  He does the same with the trinity of art—artist, making, art—in order to examine and craft his little dramas.  

    As he often speaks to his poems, he is able to demonstrate the strength and beauty that each one possesses.  He can do all this without appearing to be boastful: he is merely demonstrating what truly exists—not what he might wish to fabricate or obfuscate into existence, as do poetasters such as Robert Bly.

    Sonnet 85 “My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still”

    My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still
    Whilst comments of your praise, richly compil’d,
    Deserve their character with golden quill,  
    And precious phrase by all the Muses fil’d.
    I think good thoughts, whilst others write good words,
    And, like unletter’d clerk, still cry ‘Amen’
    To every hymn that able spirit affords,
    In polish’d form of well-refined pen.
    Hearing you prais’d, I say ‘’Tis so, ’tis true,’
    And to the most of praise add something more;
    But that is in my thought, whose love to you,
    Though words come hindmost, holds his rank before.
      Then others for the breath of words respect,
      Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 85 “My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still”

    While appearing to remain humble, the clever speaker of all the Shakespeare sonnets has honed a skill in praising his own talent, as she explores that nature of art, talent, and art creation.

    First Quatrain:  The Quiet Composer

    My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still
    Whilst comments of your praise, richly compil’d,
    Deserve their character with golden quill,  
    And precious phrase by all the Muses fil’d.

    The speaker is addressing his sonnet, telling it that its creator remains quiet when others praise it, but he freely admits that the sonnet deserves the “praise, richly compil’d.”   The sonnet shines as though written with a pen of golden ink.  Not only the Muse of poetry, but also all of the other Muses are filled with pleasure at the valuable sonnets that the speaker has created.

    This speaker claims that his Muse is “tongue-tied,” but the sonnet, as usual, demonstrates otherwise.   The speaker never allows himself to be tongue-tied, and at times, when he might be struggling to find expression, he merely blames the Muse until he once again takes command of his thoughts, compressing them into his golden sonnets.

    Second Quatrain:  The Rôle of Critics

    I think good thoughts, whilst others write good words,
    And, like unletter’d clerk, still cry ‘Amen’
    To every hymn that able spirit affords,
    In polish’d form of well-refined pen.

    While the speaker admits that he “think[s] good thoughts,” it is the critics who “write good words” about his sonnets.   This talented speaker cannot take credit for their brilliance in exposing what a gifted writer he is.  And thus, while he certainly agrees with those “good words,” he can blush outwardly while inwardly “cry[ing] ‘Amen’.”  

    The speaker now is emphasizing the force of his soul on his creative power as he refers to his poem as a “hymn.”  To each of his sonnets, he will owe his fame, any praise they may garner him, and also the recognition he will receive for having composed them.  

    The speaker remains eternally in deep agreement with his words: “In polish’d form of well-refined pen.”   As the speaker distinguishes his ego from the sonnet itself and also his process in creating them, he will be able to attain a humbleness while at the same time completely agree that he, in fact, will always merit the praise his creations bring him.

    Third Quatrain:   Fond of Praise

    Hearing you prais’d, I say ‘’Tis so, ’tis true,’
    And to the most of praise add something more;
    But that is in my thought, whose love to you,
    Though words come hindmost, holds his rank before.

    The speaker then tells his sonnet that when he hears it praised, he says, “’Tis so, ’tis true.”   But then the speaker also has something further to express regarding that praise; he would have to add some deprecating thought in order not to come off as engaging in braggadocio.

    Because the speaker’s foremost thought is always the love he puts into his sonnets, whatever his casual remarks tend to be, he knows that those remarks are much less important than those written into the sonnet.   The sonnet represents the speaker’s soul force, not the conversational small talk that results from responding to those who praise his work.  

    The Couplet:   True Speaking

      Then others for the breath of words respect,
      Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect.

    While others praise his sonnets for their clever craft with words, the speaker feels that his thoughts, which remain unspoken but yet exist as the sonnet, are the ones that do the true speaking for him.  Thus he holds that whatever he crafts will remain closer to truth than what anyone—critic, scholar, or admirer—could ever add to his conveyed message.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 86 “Was it the proud full sail of his great verse”

    The speaker of sonnet 86 Was it the proud full sail of his great verse” puts on display the skills of a verbal gymnast, acrobat, or tightrope walker, and he always feels confident enough to perform the most difficult movements in his art, as he reaches ever higher for perfection.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 86 “Was it the proud full sail of his great verse”

    With the skills of a verbal gymnast, the speaker in sonnet 86 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence moves along his lines of poetry with the agility of a tightrope walker, and like a skillfully performing acrobat, he always feels confident enough to sway and swagger.

    Sonnet 86 “Was it the proud full sail of his great verse”

    Was it the proud full sail of his great verse  
    Bound for the prize of all too precious you,
    That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse,
    Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew?
    Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write
    Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead?
    No, neither he, nor his compeers by night  
    Giving him aid, my verse astonished.  
    He, nor that affable familiar ghost
    Which nightly gulls him with intelligence,
    As victors of my silence cannot boast;
    I was not sick of any fear from thence:
      But when your countenance fill’d up his line,  
      Then lack’d I matter; that enfeebled mine.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 86 “Was it the proud full sail of his great verse”

    The speaker is exploring his favorite issues and his relationship with his muse. The speaker in all of the  Shakespeare sonnets dramatizes and demonstrates the skills of a verbal gymnast.  He performs his literary feats as an acrobat or tightrope walker would do as they perform their own dangerous acts. This speaker knows he possesses a rare talent, and he always reveals his confidence as he continues to move with great agility through the lines of his poems.

    First Quatrain:  Addressing the Muse

    Was it the proud full sail of his great verse  
    Bound for the prize of all too precious you,
    That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse,
    Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew?

    In the first quatrain, the speaker addresses his muse, metaphorically comparing his “great verse” to a ship in “proud full sail.”  He asks the question, did my poems come from the dead ideas in my brain?  The speaker then implies that he might have merely taken thoughts into his mental processes and then his brain seemed to incubate them, and they began to grow.  

    This clever speaker is merely exploring the idea, so as he continues, he poses a second question. The speaker often suggests some notion that he will later repudiate.  He is once again setting his stage for his later performance that will surprise and delight his audience.  His skill in dramatizing his ideas seems to become stronger with each new challenge.

    Second Quatrain:  Beginning an Answer

    Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write
    Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead?
    No, neither he, nor his compeers by night  
    Giving him aid, my verse astonished.  

    The second quatrain poses the second question and offers the beginning of the answer.  He asks, was I merely afforded superior writing ability by some writing spirit?  The speaker responds in the negative.  He was not merely a target of some disembodied soul who uses him for his own purposes.  He is assured the his talent and worth are not mere flukes. The speaker then finishes his explanation in the next quatrain.

    Third Quatrain:  Not Passive

    He, nor that affable familiar ghost
    Which nightly gulls him with intelligence,
    As victors of my silence cannot boast;
    I was not sick of any fear from thence:

    The speaker affirms that he is not merely a passive host for some apparition who “gulls him with intelligence.”  He has not been contaminated even though low power of inspiration occasionally has heralded his mighty effort to overcome the “victors of my silence.”   

    This talented speaker has not been a pawn in the hands of others but has always been in charge of his own destiny. Even this speaker’s ability to create as he complains about weakened inspiration demonstrates a rare and fertile mind at work.

    The Couplet:  Muse and Truth

      But when your countenance fill’d up his line,  
      Then lack’d I matter; that enfeebled mine.

    The speaker then declares that his muse, who represents truth, love, and beauty has always provided the “countenance” that has inspired him with the ability and grace to overcome any human lack he might have experienced. That this speaker humbly offers a tribute of gratitude to his muse speaks volumes about the depth of character the writer of these works possesses.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 87 “Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing”

    Shakespeare sonnet 87 “Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing” begins a sequence in which this clever, talented speaker addresses his muse, again bemoaning the fact that she sometimes seems to abandon him.

    Introduction and Text Sonnet 87 “Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing”

    Interestingly, the speaker again in sonnet 87 “Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence is facing the dreaded bane of writers, low level inspiration for creating. 

    And yet even more interesting is the way this clever writer goes about overcoming that problem. If his muse intends to abandon the writer, what better act then to take the initiative and abandon his muse before she can complete her get-away!

    Sonnet 87  “Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing”

    Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing
    And like enough thou know’st thy estimate:
    The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing;
    My bonds in thee are all determinate.
    For how do I hold thee but by thy granting?
    And for that riches where is my deserving?
    The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting,
    And so my patent back again is swerving.  
    Thyself thou gav’st, thy own worth then not knowing,
    Or me, to whom thou gav’st it, else mistaking;
    So thy great gift, upon misprision growing,
    Comes home again, on better judgment making.
      Thus have I had thee, as a dream doth flatter,  
      In sleep a king, but, waking, no such matter.


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    Commentary on Sonnet 87 “Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing”

    Sonnet 87 “Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing” begins a sequence in which the speaker addresses his muse, again bemoaning the fact that she sometimes seems to abandon him.

    First Quatrain:  Cannot Possess

    Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing
    And like enough thou know’st thy estimate:
    The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing;
    My bonds in thee are all determinate.

    In the first quatrain, the speaker exclaims a defiant “Farewell!” and then adds the claim that the addressee is too valuable to be possessed by one such as he. He then accuses his muse of behaving rather superciliously.  

    His muse knows she is too precious and difficult for the speaker to hold. The speaker then explains that the high value that his muse places on her company renders it all the more proper that he should be “releasing” her.  

    The speaker makes it clear that he understands his claim on his muse has always been and will always be tenuous.  This talented speaker is well aware that she may abandon him permanently, even as she does temporarily from time to time.  Thus he strikes out boldly by beating her to the punch—abandoning her before she abandons him.

    Second Quatrain:   A Fluid Style

    For how do I hold thee but by thy granting?
    And for that riches where is my deserving?
    The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting,
    And so my patent back again is swerving.  

    The speaker then adopts a fluid style as he asks of his muse, asking her how he could ever hold on to her without her consent.  The speaker proclaims repeatedly that he does not deserve the “riches” that his muse has heretofore bestowed upon him.  So he has no complaint that she should take back her inspiration.

    If the speaker sounds as if he has given up, he still does so in a cunning manner, as always.  As the speaker is making any kind of gesture, readers have come to realize that he likely has some clever come-back that will save the day.  This speaker is both clever and resourceful even as he often feigns dullness and poverty; his spirit remains strong as his writing talent lives to write another sonnet.

    Third Quatrain:  Inspirational Storehouse

    Thyself thou gav’st, thy own worth then not knowing,
    Or me, to whom thou gav’st it, else mistaking;
    So thy great gift, upon misprision growing,
    Comes home again, on better judgment making.

    In the third quatrain, the speaker draws back a bit and notes that his muse probably gave him a store of her inspiration not realizing her own worth at the time.  Then when she finally realized her value, she decided to take it back.  She judged it better to refrain from inspiring the speaker further. 

    Again, the speaker is bestowing on the muse qualities that he knows he possesses.  He may feign dependence on the muse, but he is always aware that she depends greatly upon him—that is, upon his considerable talent.  This awakened speaker remains ever aware of the blessing of the gift of composing that he abundantly possesses.

    The Couplet:  Go from Flattery

    Thus have I had thee, as a dream doth flatter,  
      In sleep a king, but, waking, no such matter.

    The speaker then likens his early encounters with his muse to that of a dream.   In his dream, the speaker had fancied he was a king, but when he woke up, he realized that he had been mistaken. And now the speaker is facing the fact that he might have written his last inspired piece of work, and he is assuaging his pain by feigning his release of his blessed muse.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 88 “When thou shalt be dispos’d to set me light”

    The speaker in sonnet 88 “When thou shalt be dispos’d to set me light”admits that he is a flawed human being, but he avers that his blessings of talent and pure motivation render and keep his art worthy.

    Introduction and  Text of Sonnet 88 “When thou shalt be dispos’d to set me light”

    In Shakespeare sonnet 88 “When thou shalt be dispos’d to set me light” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker has stumbled up on a unique position: even his flaws reveal nothing but genuine love for truth, beauty, and spiritual honesty.  His skillful rendering of that idea results in one the most intriguing sonnets in any language.

    Sonnet 88 “When thou shalt be dispos’d to set me light”

    When thou shalt be dispos’d to set me light
    And place my merit in the eye of scorn,
    Upon thy side against myself I ’ll fight,
    And prove thee virtuous, though thou art forsworn.
    With mine own weakness, being best acquainted,
    Upon thy part I can set down a story  
    Of faults conceal’d, wherein I am attainted;
    That thou in losing me shalt win much glory:
    And I by this will be a gainer too;
    For bending all my loving thoughts on thee,
    The injuries that to myself I do,  
    Doing thee vantage, double-vantage me.  
      Such is my love, to thee I so belong,
      That for thy right myself will bear all wrong.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 88 “When thou shalt be dispos’d to set me light”

    Admitting that he is a flawed human being, the speaker in sonnet 88, nevertheless, also claims that his blessings of talent and sincere motivation result in a valuable art.

    First Quatrain:  Addressing His Poem as Critic

    When thou shalt be dispos’d to set me light
    And place my merit in the eye of scorn,
    Upon thy side against myself I ’ll fight,
    And prove thee virtuous, though thou art forsworn.

    The speaker addresses his poem as if it were a critic or an adversary.  He tells the poem that when it has a mind to make him look superficial and without worth, he will agree with the poem.   The speaker will “prove [the poem] virtuous” above his own worth. Even though the poem may, in fact, be speaking out of prejudice, the speaker, nevertheless, will argue on its side, instead of trying to defend his own position.

    By giving the poem such power, the speaker relieves his own sense of lack of power at time.  Of course, he feels that most of the time he retains control, but those times when power, creativity, and clarity elude him, he must rethink his ability to reason as well as his power to control the logic of his continuing to create.  

    This speaker has made it clear that he wishes to engage only genuine thoughts and feelings that then produces genuine poetry.  He has also made it clear that he has no respect for those artists who produce mere tinsel and decoration.

    Second Quatrain:  Aware of His Own Value

    With mine own weakness, being best acquainted,
    Upon thy part I can set down a story  
    Of faults conceal’d, wherein I am attainted;
    That thou in losing me shalt win much glory:

    The speaker/poet knows his own value and position, including his own weaknesses.  Thus, in his art he believes he is wont to display, from time to time, remnants of those weaknesses.   Even when the speaker’s “story” tries to cover his flaws, he knows that they will show through the work, for he also knows his unique talent is employed for truth-telling.

    But when the speaker is fortunate enough to rise above his flaws, it will be tantamount to the poem’s “losing [him]”; at least, the poem will have dispensed with the writer’s serious blemishes and therefore will “win much glory.”  By giving the glory to the poem, the speaker again de-emphasizes his own ego, which he knows he must keep in check, in order to remain true to truth and beauty.  

    He knows that it is the ego that leads the human mind and heart astray, and while his level of talent might lead to an enlarged and overweening ego, he is determined not to allow it.  Ego aggrandizement spells the death of all art.

    Third Quatrain:  The Way to Strength and Power

    And I by this will be a gainer too;
    For bending all my loving thoughts on thee,
    The injuries that to myself I do,  
    Doing thee vantage, double-vantage me.  

    After the poem establishes itself in glory despite the faults of the poet, the poet also grows in strength and power.   This clever speaker knows that because he has been “bending all [his] loving thought on” the poem, the failures that might slip into the poem to harm him will, instead, be advantageous to the poem, and doubly beneficial to the poet.

    This deep-thinking speaker cannot take advantage of the poem, just as the poem cannot reflect more than the store of wealth owned by the speaker.   The defects of the speaker molded by the unique talent of the poet will prove the value of each.   The speaker’s confidence grows with each sonnet, and he can toast his failures as well as his best efforts. 

    The Couplet:  Glory to Love

    Such is my love, to thee I so belong,
    That for thy right myself will bear all wrong.

    The speaker attributes his glory to the love of the sonnet; he is always deeply interested in the theme of love—from his thematic trinity of love, truth, and beauty—and when the sonnet shines with the glory of his love, he feels he is most successful.   

    He is then able to “bear all wrong” for the sake of the sonnet to which he has committed his attention, talent, and ability. Any wrong the speaker might commit in his poems he fully accepts, knowing that his motivation is genuine, his effort is tireless, and his spiritual understanding is impeccable.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 89 “Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault”

    Addressing his muse in sonnet 89 “Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault,” the speaker/poet again professes that he will not argue with the one who ultimately steadies his hand and focuses his spirit on his art.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 89 “Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault”

    The speaker in Shakespeare sonnet 89 “Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault”knows that sometimes his works may not hold up to his standards.  He accepts total blame when he fails to deliver a perfect polished sonnet.  He desires to accept such blame because he wishes to remain of the mindset that his muse is perfect and would never lead him astray.

    Sonnet 89 “Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault”

    Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault
    And I will comment upon that offence:
    Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt,
    Against thy reasons making no defence.
    Thou canst not love, disgrace me half so ill,
    To set a form upon desired change,
    As I’ll myself disgrace; knowing thy will,
    I will acquaintance strangle, and look strange;
    Be absent from thy walks; and in my tongue
    Thy sweet beloved name no more shall dwell,
    Lest I, too much profane, should do it wrong,
    And haply of our old acquaintance tell.
      For thee, against myself I’ll vow debate,  
      For I must ne’er love him whom thou dost hate.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 89 “Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault”

    The speaker/poet again is addressing his muse, this time professing that he will not argue with the one who ultimately steadies his hand and focuses his spirit on his art.

    First Quatrain:   No Haggling with Inspiration

    Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault
    And I will comment upon that offence:
    Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt,
    Against thy reasons making no defence.

    In the first quatrain, the speaker addresses his muse, saying that if she will let him know what his misbehavior has been, he will “comment upon that offence.”  And the speaker will cease whatever activities the muse thinks is unworthy, because he has no desire to haggle with his inspiration.

    Second Quatrain:    Argument as Enjoyment

    Thou canst not love, disgrace me half so ill,
    To set a form upon desired change,
    As I ’ll myself disgrace; knowing thy will,
    I will acquaintance strangle, and look strange;

    The speaker then says that his muse cannot “disgrace me half so ill,” unless she tries to become too restrictive and “set a form upon desired change.”   This speaker, as has been seen in many sonnets, enjoys arguing with his muse.  And he is apt to change his stance from time to time; even though he often complains about it.

    The speaker also avers that he will not defend himself against the muse’s  accusations.  This speaker is willing to “look strange” if, however, the muse desires such, even though he might seem to “disgrace” himself.

    Third Quatrain:    No Blame

    Be absent from thy walks; and in my tongue
    Thy sweet beloved name no more shall dwell,
    Lest I, too much profane, should do it wrong,
    And haply of our old acquaintance tell.

    After the muse has forsaken him, as she all to often is wont to do, the speaker vows that he, henceforth, will no longer keep calling on her “sweet beloved name.”  Instead, the speaker will permit her to leave, if he finds that he “should do it wrong.”  If he ever concocts a poem that is deemed “too much profane,” he will not allow the muse to be blamed for the bad sonnet.

    The speaker insists on to taking responsibility for his own flaws and errors.  He desires that the muse remain perfect and a special model of inspiration and motivation.  He will not allow his muse ever to suffer for his inadequate outpourings.

    The Couplet:   Neutralizing of Hate

    For thee, against myself I ’ll vow debate,  
      For I must ne’er love him whom thou dost hate.

    The speaker then asserts that he will continue his artistic endeavors alone, “myself I’ll vow debate.”  The speaker maintains that he cannot love that which the muse hates. However, the speaker knows that the nature of such hatred neutralizes itself in the continued practice of art. The speaker longs to believe that the muse’s bittersweet inspiration keeps him focused even as he occasionally languishes in uncontrolled emotion.

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    Shakespeare Sonnet 90 “Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now”

    In another colorful dramatic expression, the speaker in sonnet 90 “Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now” commands his muse to leave him, if she intends to, while he is suffering other defeats, which will be made light in comparison to losing her.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 90 “Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now”

    As readers have observed in the first 89 sonnets from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence by this talented sonneteer, his speakers are skilled in making arguments seemingly out of thin air.  

    The speaker at times is bitterly complaining about his inability to face the blank page while he suffers that bane of all scribblers—periods of low inspiration. Still this rich-minded, spiritually strong speaker is able to construct a fascinating drama out of his frustration.  And that is exactly what all writers must do, if they are to continue growing their skills and their portfolios.

    Sonnet 90 “Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now”

    Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now
    Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross,  
    Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
    And do not drop in for an after-loss:  
    Ah! do not, when my heart hath ’scap’d this sorrow,
    Come in the rearward of a conquer’d woe;  
    Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
    To linger out a purpos’d overthrow.
    If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,  
    When other petty griefs have done their spite,
    But in the onset come: so shall I taste
    At first the very worst of fortune’s might;
      And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
      Compar’d with loss of thee will not seem so.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 90 “Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now”

    The speaker makes light of other defeats that would pale in comparison to losing his muse.  The notion of such a comparison/contrast can offer imagery for a dramatic effect—and effect which this speaker continues to create with abundant skill.

    First Quatrain:  Addressing His Muse

    Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now
    Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross,  
    Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
    And do not drop in for an after-loss:  

    Once again addressing his muse, the speaker faces the possible flight of his muse from him.  He exaggerates the situation by telling the muse to hate him, if she must.   But the clever speaker also commands her to do it quickly while he is being pummeled by others.  He then asks her not to bother to return, for he will not be fit to accept her again once he suspects that he has her lost permanently.

    The clever speaker is once again concocting a situation that requires colorful language.  The mere notion that his muse would hate him offers him phrases such as “bent my deeds,” “spite of fortune,” and “drop in for an after-loss.”  Once the speaker has established a line of thinking, the images that reveal the concoction seem to appear out of thin air.  

    This speaker has such confidence in his ability to squeeze blood out of turnip that he never has any compunction about making his repeated attempts.  Sometimes brainstorming produces dreck which can also be transformed with little effort into beautiful thoughts and feelings that inhabit the images.

    Second Quatrain:  A Fickle Muse

    Ah! do not, when my heart hath ’scap’d this sorrow,
    Come in the rearward of a conquer’d woe;  
    Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
    To linger out a purpos’d overthrow.

    The speaker then commands the muse not to return again to cause him grief, for he knows and avers that he will be able to soldier on.  He will escape the “sorrow.”   But this crafty speaker also knows how love-turned-to-hate wants to add insult to injury.  

    He commands his fickle muse not to bother producing inclement weather that can just be reversed upon the coming of the very next day.  The clouds that move across the sky in the morning may be whisked away by noon as if they had never been. 

    The speaker will not allow himself to suffer from his lot no matter what the trials and tribulations that lot may bring.  He remains vigilant but more importantly, he remains confident that he will not succumb to any loss, or seeming loss, perpetrated by circumstances.  Even though he accepts the fact that much remains beyond his control, he also understands the extent and the limit of his own ability to bring about necessary change.  

    His little dramas continue to await the eyeballs that will eventually herald them into power.  This satisfied speaker can rely upon his early works to spill much needed lush waters that will motivate his fecund and everlastingly fertile mind to ply its skills in all cases.

    Third Quatrain:  Commanding the Muse

    If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,  
    When other petty griefs have done their spite,
    But in the onset come: so shall I taste
    At first the very worst of fortune’s might;
      And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
      Compar’d with loss of thee will not seem so.

    The speaker then commands his erratic muse not to leave him after he has been castigated by other miseries.  He prefers to face her absence along with the other griefs, despite the number and severity of those griefs.   

    The worst thing the speaker could face is the loss of his muse, and if he faces that first, then he knows he will be made stronger and more capable of enduring all other losses.  As he rationalizes any loss, he also vouches safe his own position of strength from which he is always arguing.

    The Couplet:  No Comparison

    And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
      Compar’d with loss of thee will not seem so.

    The other “woe[s]” that the speaker must suffer cannot compare with “strains of woe” with which losing his muse would burden him.   This speaker then commands his muse to do him the courtesy of permitting him to recover at his own speed.

    Accepting the fact that the muse must venture off from time to time, he takes every precaution to keep his balance.  He must harmonizes his inner equilibrium with outer circumstances, a fact that he has learned early on but which becomes more and more apparent as he progresses in his acquisition of skill.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 91 “Some glory in their birth, some in their skill”

    The speaker in sonnet 91 “Some glory in their birth, some in their skill” addresses his own soul, which is the repository of his considerable talent for creating the kind of poetry he uses to express truth.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 91 “Some glory in their birth, some in their skill”

    This speaker in sonnet 91 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence has observed closely all the things that attract his fellow beings.  His deep thinking and discriminating faculties have led him to believe that only one human possession is truly valuable.  The crafty and talented scribbler in this speaker allows him to again create a unique drama to both elevate his abilities while remaining quite humble and subtle.

    Sonnet 91 “Some glory in their birth, some in their skill”

    Some glory in their birth, some in their skill
    Some in their wealth, some in their body’s force;
    Some in their garments, though new-fangled ill;
    Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse;
    And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure,
    Wherein it finds a joy above the rest:
    But these particulars are not my measure;
    All these I better in one general best.
    Thy love is better than high birth to me,
    Richer than wealth, prouder than garments’ cost,
    Of more delight than hawks and horses be;
    And having thee, of all men’s pride I boast:
    Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst take
    All this away, and me most wretched make.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 91 “Some glory in their birth, some in their skill”

    The speaker in sonnet 91 “Some glory in their birth, some in their skill” addresses his own soul, which is the repository of his considerable talent for creating the kind of poetry he uses to express truth.

    First Quatrain:  Pride of Possession

    Some glory in their birth, some in their skill
    Some in their wealth, some in their body’s force;
    Some in their garments, though new-fangled ill;
    Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse;

    In the first quatrain, the speaker catalogues all of the earthly possessions about which people have chosen to feel prideful:  high birth, useful skill, prodigious wealth, body’s force, garments, and fine animals.

    Second Quatrain:  Transcending the Mundane

    And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure,
    Wherein it finds a joy above the rest:
    But these particulars are not my measure;
    All these I better in one general best.

    The speaker continues as he avers that each personality is attracted to its own particular “pleasure” from which it may take “joy.”   But to this clever speaker, none of those qualities and possessions seem at all pleasing and desirable. This speaker’s choice transcends all the other choices.  Because his choice is simple, he regards it as far superior.

    Third Quatrain:   Soul Elevation

    Thy love is better than high birth to me,
    Richer than wealth, prouder than garments’ cost,
    Of more delight than hawks and horses be;
    And having thee, of all men’s pride I boast:

    The love of his soul is the being that elevates him above all others.  It is far superior to high birth, wealth, and all of the other items in the catalogue.    And because this speaker possess this important soul love, he has everything—not just one choice or other from the physical level of being, because the entire cosmos is contained in every human soul.

    The Couplet:   Losing Soul Awareness

    Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst take
    All this away, and me most wretched make.

    The speaker summarizes his comparison by averring that the only thing that would make the speaker “wretched” is that he could lose awareness of his most prized possession, this soul love that he cherishes above all else.   And the creative motivation of this speaker seems to assure him and his readers that such a loss remains a virtual impossibility.

    That fact that the speaker employs the conditional verb “mayest” vouches safe that is he knows such a soul love cannot be taken away from him.  He knows that the soul is the permanent entity that informs all of his physical, as well as mental being.  He makes this statement merely emphasizing his soul love without which he would, indeed, become “wretched.”

    Shakespeare Sonnet 92 “But do thy worst to steal thyself away”

    In sonnet 92 But do thy worst to steal thyself away,” the speaker is addressing his soul, dramatizing his realization that the soul is an immortal being; thus his own true self is immortal, despite his lack of complete awareness.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 92 “But do thy worst to steal thyself away”

    In sonnet 92, the speaker avows his unity with the soul force yet still holds back with an agnostic possibility that he might be mistaken, though he is certain he is not.  But even as he seems to remain affirmed in his faith in the immortality of his soul, he holds out room for doubt.  He colorfully causes a give and take that still results in confirmed faith.

    Sonnet 92 “But do thy worst to steal thyself away”

    But do thy worst to steal thyself away
    For term of life thou art assured mine;
    And life no longer than thy love will stay,
    For it depends upon that love of thine.
    Then need I not to fear the worst of wrongs,
    When in the least of them my life hath end.
    I see a better state to me belongs
    Than that which on thy humour doth depend:
    Thou canst not vex me with inconstant mind,
    Since that my life on thy revolt doth lie.
    O! what a happy title do I find,
    Happy to have thy love, happy to die:
    But what’s so blessed-fair that fears no blot?
    Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 92 “But do thy worst to steal thyself away”

    The speaker in this sonnet 92 “But do thy worst to steal thyself away” avows his unity with the soul force, yet  he still holds back with an agnostic possibility that he might be mistaken, though he is certain he is not.

    First Quatrain:  Addresses His Own Soul

    But do thy worst to steal thyself away
    For term of life thou art assured mine;
    And life no longer than thy love will stay,
    For it depends upon that love of thine.

    Addressing his soul, the speaker dramatizes his realization that his soul is an immortal being; thus his own true self is immortal, despite his lack of total awareness.  The soul, he does realize, is made of love—Divine love.  This speaker understands that as long as his soul remains in his physical body, he will continue to live and perform his earthly duties. 

    The speaker avers that he knows his life is connected to and therefore “depends upon that love of thine.”   The soul’s love is the life force (prana or lifetrons) that keeps his body animated and infuses his mind with the ability to cogitate and create.  

    Second Quatrain:  Soul Awareness

    Then need I not to fear the worst of wrongs,
    When in the least of them my life hath end.
    I see a better state to me belongs
    Than that which on thy humour doth depend:

    The speaker then reports that the result of his soul awareness and the understanding that his soul is pure divine love allows him to be able to remain brave in the face of “the worst of wrongs.”  

    The speaker “see[s] a better state to me belongs” after his earthly, physical awareness ends and his unique spiritual awakening begins. He realizes that the pure, inviolate state of the soul that remains perpetually balanced does not experience the vicissitudes of mood and “humour.”   The harmonious evenmindedness is a welcoming one for the speaker.

    Third Quatrain:  Chiding His Own Soul

    Thou canst not vex me with inconstant mind,
    Since that my life on thy revolt doth lie.
    O! what a happy title do I find,
    Happy to have thy love, happy to die:

    The speaker then chides his soul that would never deign to “vex me with inconstant mind.”  He knows that because his very life depends on the life force of his soul power, he is eternally bound to that soul force.  Because of this cosmic unity, the speaker can rejoice that he is “Happy to have thy love, happy to die.”  For even in death, he will be still united with that all-important soul love.

    The Couplet:  Only Human

    But what ’s so blessed-fair that fears no blot?
    Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not.

    The speaker then admits that he is still as yet only a human being who may not be able to swear that he “fears no blot.”   The speaker finally offers a rather bland nod to his own soul, suggesting that he suspects that he could possibly be wrong in his guesses.   However, if it does turn out that he is mistaken, it is because he is unable to realize his error.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 93 “So shall I live, supposing thou art true”

    In  sonnet 93 “So shall I live, supposing thou art true” addressing his muse, the speaker is professing that his art will continue to be infused with the permanent beauty and spiritual strength that the heavenly muse provides.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 93 “So shall I live, supposing thou art true”

    Addressing his muse, the speaker asserts that his art will continue to be focused on the permanent beauty and spiritual strength that the heavenly muse or soul provides. Once again, this alert speaker finds a way to elevate his muse while at the same time, he is chiding her for not letting him know certain unknowable future movements.  

    The speaker remains certain that his muse is a spiritual being, to whom he will always remain dependent for artistic inspiration.  But he does not elevate her station to the point of mere praise and flattery.

    It must be remembered that this sonneteer remains totally devoted to truth as he dramatizes beauty, but he also remains dedicated to accuracy, knowing that not all things on this earth can be deemed beautiful. 

    This speaker has demonstrated many times that he can complain at the same time he praises, and his muse can remain a target at the same time she remains a praiseworthy inspiration.

    Sonnet 93 “So shall I live, supposing thou art true”

    So shall I live, supposing thou art true
    Like a deceived husband; so love’s face
    May still seem love to me, though alter’d new;
    Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place:
    For there can live no hatred in thine eye,
    Therefore in that I cannot know thy change.
    In many’s looks, the false heart’s history
    Is writ in moods, and frowns, and wrinkles strange,
    But heaven in thy creation did decree
    That in thy face sweet love should ever dwell;
    Whate’er thy thoughts or thy heart’s workings be,
    Thy looks should nothing thence but sweetness tell.
    How like Eve’s apple doth thy beauty grow,
    If thy sweet virtue answer not thy show!

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    Commentary on Sonnet 93 “So shall I live, supposing thou art true”

    Addressing his muse, this divinely creative speaker takes a vow that he will continue to infuse his art with the permanent beauty and spiritual strength that the heavenly muse affords him.

    First Quatrain:  Addressing the Muse

    So shall I live, supposing thou art true
    Like a deceived husband; so love’s face
    May still seem love to me, though alter’d new;
    Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place:

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 93, the speaker is addressing his muse, alerting her that he will henceforth pretend that he believes she will not forsake him.  The speaker still chides her, insisting that he knows he will be like a deceived husband, but he nevertheless continues with his diversion. 

    This clever speaker will continue to believe that his muse is true to him as he looks into her face of inspiration.  Even when her endowment of motivation is “alter’d new,” that is changed, it is still better than dismissing her altogether.  

    The speaker will continue to retain her vision, even if her heart is in another place. The speaker knows that he is really the one who supplies the emotion, or heart, and the muse is only an aid, and sometimes a crutch, for acquiring a way of seeing.

    Second Quatrain:   Knowing No Hatred

    For there can live no hatred in thine eye,
    Therefore in that I cannot know thy change.
    In many’s looks, the false heart’s history
    Is writ in moods, and frowns, and wrinkles strange,

    The speaker then avers that he can find no reason to reprimand the muse, who knows no hatred.  With human beings, the speaker can read changes of mood in their physical face with its frowns and wrinkles.  

    The human will display moods easily read by those who carefully observe and take note of such displays, but the muse, being ethereal, can steal away as surreptitiously as she steals in. 

    While the speaker insists that he loves that quality of the muse, nevertheless, it sometimes perturbs him.  After all, the speaker is still only human, even though his ambitions continuously run after so much that remains seemingly out of reach.

    Third Quatrain:  Optimistic Conviction

    But heaven in thy creation did decree
    That in thy face sweet love should ever dwell;
    Whate’er thy thoughts or thy heart’s workings be,
    Thy looks should nothing thence but sweetness tell.

    But the speaker returns to his optimistic conviction that in the true face of his muse, sweet love should ever dwell.  This loving speaker knows that his own grumpiness is all he sees when he projects his foul moods upon his lovely muse.

    The muse is a divine reflection of heaven, and when the Divine created the muse, He placed perfection within the reach of the artist, who makes the effort to court her in earnest in all her divinity and without the vanity of solipsism.  

    Regardless of the many projections the artist might cast out from his own tainted mood, the muse will remain constant.  The artist must simply learn to discern his own failures to distinguish them from the inspirations of the muse.

    The Couplet:   Inspiration and Guidance

    How like Eve’s apple doth thy beauty grow,
    If thy sweet virtue answer not thy show!

    If the muse’s beauty were an evanescent, rotting reality such as “Eve’s apple,” no artist could ever rely upon her for inspiration and guidance.  This speaker, however, avows that sweet virtue belongs only to the spiritual union that the muse brings to the practicing artist, who sets his principles and goals on a lofty pedestal.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 94 “They that have power to hurt and will do none”

    In sonnet 94 “They that have power to hurt and will do none,” the speaker argues a philosophical point that despite a pleasing appearance and personality, an individual’s behavior might still remain deplorable.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 94“They that have power to hurt and will do none”

    In Shakespeare sonnet 94 “They that have power to hurt and will do none,” the speaker is exploring the notion of outward beauty compared to inward character.  How does one determine which is more valuable and more useful for a purposeful life? The speaker offers his own suggestions as he dramatizes the plant kingdom with its spectrum of beautiful flowers to ugly weeds.

    In the long run, which is more honest?  A rotten stinking once lovely flower or a stalwart though ragged and ugly weed? The speaker’s philosophical nature can always be traced to his ultimate stance on the purpose and function of poetry.

    The philosophy of a speaker who desires above all else to create honest art should remain consistent, and readers will be able to determine such a consistency as they continue to experience the entire set of 154 sonnets. This speaker has made it clear that he disdains mere showiness in drama.  His dramas must fulfill a definite purpose, and they must always reveal a basic truth about life and art.

    Sonnet 94 “They that have power to hurt and will do none”

    They that have power to hurt and will do none
    That do not do the thing they most do show,
    Who, moving others, are themselves as stone,
    Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow;
    They rightly do inherit heaven’s graces,
    And husband nature’s riches from expense;
    They are the lords and owners of their faces,
    Others but stewards of their excellence.
    The summer’s flower is to the summer sweet,
    Though to itself it only live and die,
    But if that flower with base infection meet,
    The basest weed outbraves his dignity:
    For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds;
    Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.

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    Commentary on “They that have power to hurt and will do none”

    The speaker is arguing a philosophical point that despite a pleasing appearance and personality, an individual’s behavior might still remain unacceptable.

    First Quatrain:  The Philosophy of Personality

    They that have power to hurt and will do none
    That do not do the thing they most do show,
    Who, moving others, are themselves as stone,
    Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow;

    The first quatrain of sonnet 94 finds the speaker waxing philosophical, as he describes a type of personality that is the repository for the power to hurt other individuals.  That particular personality type may show his power as he fails to act upon it. That sort of personality can also remain “Unmoved, cold” and thus not succumb to the temptation of displaying any ostentatious emotional outbursts.

    The first quatrain merely describes the personality type as having this innate power and at the same time having the cool control over outward appearance.  He leaves his conclusion about the nature of that individual for the next quatrain.

    Second Quatrain:  Innate Tendencies

    They rightly do inherit heaven’s graces,
    And husband nature’s riches from expense;
    They are the lords and owners of their faces,
    Others but stewards of their excellence.

    The speaker then remarks that such individuals who exhibit the personal behavior as described in the first quatrain “rightly do inherit heaven’s graces.”  The cool, slow to enrage type comes by his temperament, not by learning but by innate tendencies.  

    That person, in addition to inheriting his evenmindedness, has the ability to “husband nature’s riches from expense.”  The control, with which such an individual is born, may be used in controlling the nature of others.  

    While the controllers are “lords and owners of their faces,” other people are the ones who reap the benefit, or harvest the penury, depending upon the true depth of personality that eventually will be dramatized by the powerful personality.

    Third Quatrain:   Weed Appeal

    The summer’s flower is to the summer sweet,
    Though to itself it only live and die,
    But if that flower with base infection meet,
    The basest weed outbraves his dignity:

    The speaker then offers a comparison to the plant kingdom to demonstrate further his observations about those supposed cool personalities.   While a flower may be “to the summer sweet,” “to itself,” it does nothing more than “live and die.”  But if that same flower becomes infected by a canker worm, it is less appealing than an ordinary weed.  

    The natural weed that remains healthy “outbraves” the “dignity” of the formerly sweet flower.   Even the weed that naturally exudes no pleasant odor will not fling forth a stench as putrid as a rotting formerly sweet-smelling flower.

    The Couplet: Beauty and Behavior

    For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds;
    Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.

    The couplet then contains the point of the philosophical theorizing:  “sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds.”  “Pretty is a pretty does”—as the old adage goes.   Thus “Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.”  Despite the original beauty of the face, or sweetness of the personality, the value of the personality will be determined by the person’s behavior.

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    Shakespeare Sonnet 95 “How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame”

    The speaker in sonnet 95 “How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame” dramatizes the Muse’s power to appoint beauty despite decay as he again celebrates his own innate talent to remain focused on his creativity.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 95 “How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame”

    Sonnet 95 “How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame” finds the speaker dramatizing his Muse’s force in appointing all things that are lovely and graceful.  This insightful speaker remains appreciative of such power, despite the fact that ultimately degradation and decay must come to all physical objects.

    The speaker remains once again in celebration of his magnificent talent, which affords him the ability to stay focused intently on his useful and truthful process of creativity. That this scribbling speaker lives in his art becomes clear more and more with every sonnet that he adds to his collection.

    Sonnet 95 “How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame” 

    How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame
    Which, like a canker in the fragrant rose,
    Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name!
    O! in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose.
    That tongue that tells the story of thy days,
    Making lascivious comments on thy sport,
    Cannot dispraise but in a kind of praise;
    Naming thy name blesses an ill report.
    O! what a mansion have those vices got
    Which for their habitation chose out thee,
    Where beauty’s veil doth cover every blot  
    And all things turn to fair that eyes can see!
      Take heed, dear heart, of this large privilege;
      The hardest knife ill-used doth lose his edge.

    Original Text

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    Commentary on Sonnet 95 “How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame”

    The speaker in sonnet 95 “How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame” dramatizes the Muse’s power to appoint beauty despite decay as he again celebrates his own innate talent to remain focused on his creativity.

    First Quatrain:  Addressing His Muse

    How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame
    Which, like a canker in the fragrant rose,
    Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name!
    O! in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose.

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 95, the speaker is addressing his Muse, capturing her trait of ferreting out the “lovely” from the cankerous “sins.”   The speaker then asserts colorfully that beauty spouts from the fountain of the Muse’s lush abilities.  

    Despite the fact that vile worms abide ready to attack all that is beautiful and decorous, the Muse’s talent keeps them at bay. Also, it is the Muse’s power that ultimately allows artists who woo her to forgo the “sins” that would “enclose” those who are less attentive.

    Second Quatrain:  To Be a Valiant Artist

    That tongue that tells the story of thy days,
    Making lascivious comments on thy sport,
    Cannot dispraise but in a kind of praise;
    Naming thy name blesses an ill report.

    The speaker then begins to dramatize the activities of the valiant artist who narrates the tale of his time on this round mud ball hurtling through space. Despite nature’s ways of degrading all that is heavenly and praiseworthy, the many blessings that are inherent in the Divine Muse erase the ill effects that would despoil all beauty and heartfelt emotion, coupled with courage.

    The Muse’s very “name blesses” all that might consort with the dark underbelly of the world.   The dark spirits cannot stand because light is a purifier, and the Muse is full of light—not the natural sunlight only but the light of the soul.

    Third Quatrain:  Vice vs Virtue

    O! what a mansion have those vices got
    Which for their habitation chose out thee,
    Where beauty’s veil doth cover every blot  
    And all things turn to fair that eyes can see!

    Vice cannot successfully compete with virtue; therefore, “vices” have no home, where the soulful Muse is enthroned.   The heart of the true artist yields itself up as the “habitation” from which the spark of the Muse Divine can reign, and in the place where the veil of beauty can function to hide every jot and tittle that would blot out loveliness. The speaker encapsulates the Muse’s influence, while dramatizing the baser aspects of earth.  

    In so doing, the speaker is partaking of every item that may transform all fairness, any place where any eyes may detect such. The speaker, who knows himself as a skillful artist, serves as a whisperer for the activity that prevails in the fine home of the heavenly Muse.

    The Couplet:  From Muse to Heart

     Take heed, dear heart, of this large privilege;
      The hardest knife ill-used doth lose his edge.

    In the couplet, the speaker shifts from the Muse to address his own heart, that is, his own conscience. The speaker then reminds his own heart as well as his own talent that he enjoys the divine “privilege” of comprehending such mystical and esoteric knowledge.  

    However, the speaker’s boast may yet again lead him astray, but until he loses his sharpness, he will remain well focused on his assigned task. The speaker compares such fine-tuned power to the edge of a knife that when wrongly employed becomes dull.  

    The speaker is implying that his unique grasp of nature and heaven will protect him from foolishly squandering his useful and always entertaining talent. For this speaker, his creativity remains his life as he is constantly searching for new metaphors to elucidate his soul qualities.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 96 “Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness”

    Traditionally, sonnets 18-126 are classified “The Fair Youth Sonnets” as being addressed to a “young man.”  There is no person in this sequence, however, and the speaker continues to explore the many aspects of his writing talent. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 96 “Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness”

    The speaker variously addresses his muse, his poems, and sometimes he bemoans low writer’s inspiration in this group of poems—sonnets 18 through 126—from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence.   A close reading of this group of sonnets reveals that there is, in fact, no person in them at all.   Sonnet 96, similar to sonnet 18 and sonnet 36, is addressing the poem itself.  

    Sonnet 96 “Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness”

    Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness;
    Some say thy grace is youth and gentle sport;
    Both grace and faults are lov’d of more and less:
    Thou mak’st faults graces that to thee resort.
    As on the finger of a throned queen
    The basest jewel will be well esteem’d,
    So are those errors that in thee are seen
    To truths translated, and for true things deem’d.
    How many lambs might the stern wolf betray,
    If like a lamb he could his looks translate!
    How many gazers mightst thou lead away,
    If thou wouldst use the strength of all thy state!
    But do not so; I love thee in such sort,
    As, thou being mine, mine is thy good report.

    Original Text   

    Better Reading 

    Commentary on Sonnet 96 “Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness”

    Sonnets 18-126 are traditionally identified as being addressed to a “young man.”  However, in this set of sonnets, the speaker appears to be exploring the many aspects of his writing talent.

    First Quatrain:   Converting Fault to Grace

    Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness;
    Some say thy grace is youth and gentle sport;
    Both grace and faults are lov’d of more and less:
    Thou mak’st faults graces that to thee resort.

    In the first quatrain, the speaker tells the sonnet that some people discredit its value by claiming that it merely portrays adolescent values or mere lust, while others say it is that very youth that gives the sonnet “grace” and “gentle sport.”  But the speaker simply avers that both grace and faults have their place in poetry, and people “more and less” recognize that fact.

    And besides, the speaker claims, the sonnet is the place where the crafty writer converts those faults into graces.  The speaker is, once again, addressing his poem in order to compliment its value as well as he own writing talent that accomplishes that value.

    Second Quatrain:   Power of Language

    As on the finger of a throned queen
    The basest jewel will be well esteem’d,
    So are those errors that in thee are seen
    To truths translated, and for true things deem’d.

    The second quatrain employs a simile to compare “errors” in a sonnet to “the basest jewel” on the finger of a queen.  The jewel will be considered valuable because of who wears it; the errors will be “translated” from error to truth in the sonnet.  Use of the term “translate” supports the speaker’s idea that his sonnets have power through language.

    Translation refers primarily to language, particularly conveying one language into another.  The speaker is confident that error and lack can be “translated” into truth and value in the sonnet, created by a talented craftsman.

    Third Quatrain:   Attracting Readers

    How many lambs might the stern wolf betray,
    If like a lamb he could his looks translate!
    How many gazers mightst thou lead away,
    If thou wouldst use the strength of all thy state!

    In the third quatrain, the speaker makes another comparison, between the sonnet and a wolf.  If the wolf could “translate” or change himself into a lamb, he could make off with his prey.   The speaker asks rhetorically, “How many lambs” might the wolf be able to attract through his mutation?  The speaker is implying that the number is substantial.

    Then the speaker asks, how many readers might the sonnet attract, if it would “use the strength of all [its] state!”   The sonnet has the power to capture the minds of its readers, as a wolf has the power to capture lambs, if only the wolf and the sonnet appear in the proper form.

    The Couplet:   Truth in Art

    But do not so; I love thee in such sort,
    As, thou being mine, mine is thy good report.

    The speaker informs his sonnet that it need not change, because the poem has the speaker’s heart.  The sonnet belongs to the speaker, and through his substantial talent, he has created a truthful and viable piece of art.

    The speaker tells the sonnet that it will represent him well as it moves through the centuries.  He knows that his own skill is responsible for the value of his worthy creations.

    Repeated Couplet in Sonnets 36 and 96

    Shakespeare sonnet 36, in which the speaker also addresses the sonnet directly, has the identical couplet to this sonnet 96.  The couplet works well with either sonnet because in both cases the speaker is affirming his identity as the poem’s creator.  

    In both sonnets, the fact that they will go forth and engage readers in a way that reflects on the poet is asserted.  However, even though, or perhaps because, the couplet works with both sonnets, the possibility of a publishing error exists.  It is difficult to see how that would occur, but it cannot be ruled out.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 97 “How like a winter hath my absence been”

    In sonnet 97 “How like a winter hath my absence been,” the speaker addresses his muse, likening her absence to the bleakness of winter, yet finding renewal as winter ministers to the renewal of spring.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 97 “How like a winter hath my absence been”

    As the speaker in sonnet 97 “How like a winter hath my absence been” again experiences a dry spell of low inspiration, he fabricates his drama at first blaming his own obtuseness then hinting that, in fact, he believes his muse has gone away. 

    The speaker then again returns to the position that he cherishes his muse and eagerly awaits her return.  He knows his nature will remain dependent on the spiritual guidance that only his soul (Muse) can offer.

    As he compares his dry spells to the season of winter, the speaker then realizes that winter is only a stopping over period on the year’s way to spring.  He is demonstrating his ability to look on the bright side of any event. 

    And for this speaker, the loss of writing dexterity is likely the worst travesty he can suffer, but instead of allowing himself to wallow in sorrow and anxiety, he gets busy and creates a little drama that will get him through his rough patches.

    Sonnet 97 “How like a winter hath my absence been”

    How like a winter hath my absence been  
    From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
    What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
    What old December’s bareness every where!
    And yet this time remov’d was summer’s time; The teeming autumn, big with rich increase,
    Bearing the wanton burden of the prime,  
    Like widow’d wombs after their lords’ decease:
    Yet this abundant issue seem’d to me
    But hope of orphans and unfather’d fruit;
    For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
    And, thou away, the very birds are mute:  
      Or, if they sing, ’tis with so dull a cheer,
      That leaves look pale, dreading the winter’s near.

    Original Text

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    Commentary on Sonnet 97 “How like a winter hath my absence been”

    In sonnet 97, the speaker addresses his muse, likening her absence to the bleakness of winter, yet finding renewal as winter ministers to the renewal of spring.

    First Quatrain:  The Winter Blahs

    How like a winter hath my absence been  
    From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
    What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
    What old December’s bareness every where!

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 97, the speaker reveals to his muse that his latest dry spell has been like experiencing the season of winter.  Instead of chastising his muse, however, for abandoning him as he does so often, this time the clever speaker says he is the one who has been absent from her. 

    The speaker has experienced “freezings” with “dark days” that remind him of “December’s bareness.”  But he admits readily that  “pleasure” may come from “the fleeting year.”  The speaker accepts the waxing and waning of seasonal change, even if he has to complain about it occasionally.

    Second Quatrain:   The Flow of Creativity

    And yet this time remov’d was summer’s time; The teeming autumn, big with rich increase,
    Bearing the wanton burden of the prime,  
    Like widow’d wombs after their lords’ decease:

    But then the speaker avers that this time, despite the dreariness of the absence, his creativity seemed to flow unabated; in fact, it “was summer’s time.”  And the time continued into “teeming autumn” for he became “big with rich increase.”   

    Even though his creative spirits felt like “widow’d wombs after their lords’ decease,” the speaker has managed to eke out his poems with uncanny dispatch.  He dramatizes his status rather boastfully, while preserving his dignity and that of his muse.

    Third Quatrain:   Leave Me to My Issue

    Yet this abundant issue seem’d to me
    But hope of orphans and unfather’d fruit;
    For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
    And, thou away, the very birds are mute:  

    Still, the speaker cannot take total pleasure in and assurance for his rich output for “this abundant issue seem’d to me / But hope of orphans and unfather’d fruit.”   Even though he managed to fantasize a summer-like fecundity, the speaker knows that factually “summer and his pleasures wait on thee.” 

    The speaker also finds that even the chirping, musical birds seem “mute ” with “thou away.”  (Notice here that he has reversed his claim that he, the speaker, was the one who has been absent; he now reveals that, in fact, it has been his muse who was absent.)

    The Couplet:   Cheer and Brilliance

    Or, if they sing, ’tis with so dull a cheer,
      That leaves look pale, dreading the winter’s near.

    Conversely, however, if the birds do manage to emit a tune or two, those songs lack the brilliance that they exude while his muse is present.  Even the leaves “look pale and “dread[ ] the winter’s near.”  The speaker has shown that his creativity is limited without his muse.

    The speaker wants to declare that he can be as fully creative even in dry spells when low inspiration has settled in like a hard case of the blahs. However, this talented speaker feels that such arrogance might harden the heart of his muse permanently, and thus, he prefers her presence; he prefers her useful guidance that keeps him in touch with his spiritual nature.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 98 “From you have I been absent in the spring”

    The speaker in sonnet 98 “From you have I been absent in the spring” again addresses his muse, who is again absent.  The speaker explores the nature of this absence in spring, which seems like winter without her.

    Introduction and Sonnet 98 “From you have I been absent in the spring”

    Sonnet 98 “From you have I been absent in the spring” finds the speaker still wallowing in the sorrow of separation from his muse.  Still, the speaker continues to find ways to outsmart that separation.  

    He explores every knock and cranny of his brain to create his little dramas. This speaker’s intensity never fails him, despite his very human problem that all writer’s must face—periods of low inspiration.  Even though he is complaining that his muse has abandoned him, he seems to be able to create anyway.

    This talented speaker retains the ability to employ the season in ways that other poets have left untouched.  On the one hand, he can observe the beauty of the season while on the other hand, he can admit that that beauty is somehow escaping his deepest observation. 

    Whatever he chooses to focus on, this clever speaker can be counted on to provide not only a well-structured sonnet, but one that will make a truthful statement about the human heart, mind, and soul.

    Sonnet 98 “From you have I been absent in the spring”

    From you have I been absent in the spring
    When proud-pied April, dress’d in all his trim,
    Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing,
    That heavy Saturn laugh’d and leap’d with him.
    Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell
    Of different flowers in odour and in hue,
    Could make me any summer’s story tell,
    Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew:
    Nor did I wonder at the lily’s white,
    Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;
    They were but sweet, but figures of delight,
    Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.  
      Yet seem’d it winter still, and you away,
      As with your shadow I with these did play.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 98 “From you have I been absent in the spring”

    The speaker in sonnet 98 again addresses his muse, who is again absent.  The speaker explores the nature of this absence in spring, which seems like winter without her.

    First Quatrain:  Absence in April

    From you have I been absent in the spring
    When proud-pied April, dress’d in all his trim,
    Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing,
    That heavy Saturn laugh’d and leap’d with him.

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 98, the speaker announces that he has remained absent from his must during the season of spring.  And as he did in sonnet 97, he first begins by claiming that he is the one absent from the muse, reversing what comes later in each poem. The speaker paints his absence in April, who is dressed out in appropriate fashion, and who has infuse the world with the “spirit of youth.”

    The mythologically gloomy god Saturn even responds to the glories of April by “laugh[ing] and leap[ing] with him.” April is a time when young things begin to appear and grow, and the speaker associates his budding creativity with this season; therefore, it is an especially inopportune time for the muse to be absent, but such is life.

    Second Quatrain:  Flowers and Birds Not Enough

    Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell
    Of different flowers in odour and in hue,
    Could make me any summer’s story tell,
    Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew:

    Somehow even the joy that usually arises from the birds and flowers is not enough to bring the usual inspiration to the speaker nor to elevate his mood to creativity. The speaker does not seem to be able to create any “summer’s” tale.  Regardless of his contemplation of all the surrounding beauty, he does not find it possible to alter his mood to a more sunny disposition. 

    Even as the speaker is motivated by the loveliness of the flowers, he remains unable to “pluck them where they grew.”  That is, his mental facility seems incapable of appreciating the fertile materials offered him by April and the beautiful season of spring.

    Third Quatrain:  Reminders of the One

    Nor did I wonder at the lily’s white,
    Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;
    They were but sweet, but figures of delight,
    Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.  

    The speaker’s deep admiration for “the lily’s white” and “the deep vermillion in the rose” are, nevertheless, reminders of the One who creates and sustains them—the muse is, after all, a spark of the Divine, Whom the speaker has come to rely on for his very life.   The speaker detects the pattern of the Divine in all creation, and that pattern is especially manifest during the spring season when nature begins to bloom and grow.  

    The speaker calls these natural phenomena “figures of delight.”  And he avers that they are, indeed, “drawn after you,” that is, the muse.  The pattern or design of the Divine is inherent in the muse. Although the speaker is aware that he is also a spark of the Divine, he separates himself from the concept in order to explore its nature and value.

    The Couplet:  A Solid Understanding of Nature

      Yet seem’d it winter still, and you away,
      As with your shadow I with these did play.

    The speaker reveals that while the muse is “away,” it seems like winter even in spring.  The “shadow[s]” of the muse detected in the birds, lilies, and roses are not sufficient.   The speaker is inviting his muse to return by advancing his sorrow coupled with clear discernment.  

    He has been able to demonstrate his solid understanding of how nature and the human mind may be employed to shed light on unexplored areas of thought. This speaker/thinker has no fear of treading where others have feared to go.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 99 “The forward violet thus did I chide”

    Shakespeare Sonnet 99 “The forward violet thus did I chide”features 15 lines, instead of the traditional 14.  The extra line transforms the first quatrain to a cinquain, altering the rime scheme from ABAB to ABABA.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 99 “The forward violet thus did I chide”

    In sonnet 99 “The forward violet thus did I chide,” the speaker addresses “his love” which is his muse, which includes by extension his writing ability or talent.  He uses a strategy similar to the one in which he complains that he has been absent from the muse, meaning that the muse has been absent from him.  

    The speaker reverses the situation again with the muse saying the flowers have copied his poems, not the other way around, which is ordinary:  the poet captures the images of the flowers for his poem, but this poet/speaker claims that the flowers have stolen their beauty from his poetry—a remarkable as well as cheeky proposal.

    Sonnet 99 “The forward violet thus did I chide”

    The forward violet thus did I chide
    Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells,
    If not from my love’s breath? The purple pride  
    Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells  
    In my love’s veins thou hast too grossly dy’d.
    The lily I condemned for thy hand,  
    And buds of marjoram had stol’n thy hair;  
    The roses fearfully on thorns did stand,
    One blushing shame, another white despair;
    A third, nor red nor white, had stol’n of both,
    And to his robbery had annex’d thy breath;
    But, for his theft, in pride of all his growth
    A vengeful canker eat him up to death.
      More flowers I noted, yet I none could see
      But sweet or colour it had stol’n from thee.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 99 “The forward violet thus did I chide”

    The speaker reverses the natural order of poems taking their qualities from nature, as he insists that nature is taking its qualities from his poems.

    The Beginning Cinquain:  A Drama of Reversal

    The forward violet thus did I chide
    Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells,
    If not from my love’s breath? The purple pride  
    Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells  
    In my love’s veins thou hast too grossly dy’d.

    A cinquain replaces the traditional quatrain in this unusual 15-line sonnet.  The speaker reports that he has upbraided the brazen violet for “steal[ing]” its “sweet that smells” from his “love’s breath.”  The “breath” is associated with the sonnet, which is meant to be read aloud.  

    Again, the speaker has populated his sonnet not with a human being, as has been misunderstood by many critics, but with the characteristics of his poems, which always feature his love, his muse, his talent—his God-given gift of poetic creativity.

    This clever, drama-loving speaker then says that in its attempt to copy the color of his love’s “veins” for its “soft cheek,” the violet exaggerated and now looks “too grossly dy’d.”  

    Notice that the speaker places the “soft cheek” on the violet, who after its theft wears a “purple pride.”  And the speaker claims that that purple comes from the “veins” of his love, which metaphorically refers to the “vein” of thought that lives in the images of his poetry.  

    First Quatrain:  Thieving Flowers

    The lily I condemned for thy hand,  
    And buds of marjoram had stol’n thy hair;  
    The roses fearfully on thorns did stand,
    One blushing shame, another white despair;

    The speaker reports that he also scolded the lily for stealing the image of his love’s hand, and the “buds of marjoram” had imitated his love’s hair.  “Hand” metaphorically likens the writing process to the shape of the lily, and marjoram buds compare to the spice that the poem contains metaphorically as the flowing mane that keeps the rhythm of the sonnet intact.

    Next, the speaker noticed that roses “on thorns did stand / One blushing shame, another white despair.”  Even roses had imitated the beauty and variety of his sonnets, which sometimes “blush[ ] with shame” and other times suffer with “white despair.”  

    Second Quatrain:  Stealing from the Blush of the Sonnet

    A third, nor red nor white, had stol’n of both, And to his robbery had annex’d thy breath;
    But, for his theft, in pride of all his growth
    A vengeful canker eat him up to death.

    In the second quatrain, the speaker announces that a “third” rose, which was not white or red, had stolen both the sonnet’s blush of shame and melancholy of despair, and in addition, this third damasked rose had also stolen the love’s breath.

    But because of this theft and the inordinate beauty of this rose, a “vengeful canker” worm had attacked it and stolen its loveliness for itself.  The speaker implies that this super-thief got his just desserts.

    The Couplet:  The Permanence of Poetry

     More flowers I noted, yet I none could see
      But sweet or colour it had stol’n from thee.

    The speaker finally asserts that along with the violet, lily, and rose, he has noted other flowers, and he has found that all of them have behaved exactly as the first three had.  They all, every last flower, had stolen their qualities from this speaker’s creations, that it, his love.  

    The implication naturally follows that his love, his poetic creativity, has the power to contain and thus sustain the loveliness of all flowers, and therefore remains permanent, perhaps even unto eternity.  The speaker’s poetry will at least be able to survive for centuries while the flowers, those little thieves, will survive only for a season, if even that long.

    The speaker has once again asserted his little drama that creates for him a claim to immortality.  Through his sonnets he will continue to assert his will, his talent, and his power to influence minds for how long he can only imagine.

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    Shakespeare Sonnet 100 “Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget’st so long”

    In Shakespeare sonnet 100 Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget’st so long,” the speaker addresses his Muse directly, even calling her “Muse”; he audaciously instructs her to inspire only the artist who has skill and right understanding, that is, of course, himself.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 100 “Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget’st so long”

    The speaker in sonnet 100 Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget’st so long” is again addressing his Muse.  He rebukes her for remaining at leisure and away from her post in assisting him in composing his dramatic works for posterity.  He reminds her of the importance of remaining steadfast in inspiring only those who truly deserve and comprehend her importance.

    The speaker employs his questioning technique to prompt the Muse to action.  But he finally offers her what may seem to be an egotistical urge as he insists that with her help they both will be able to provide the standard by which all future art may be judged.  And by providing that standard, they both will receive credit in terms of fame and recognition.

    Sonnet 100 “Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget’st so long”

    Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget’st so long
    To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?
    Spend’st thou thy fury on some worthless song,
    Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light?
    Return, forgetful Muse, and straight redeem
    In gentle numbers time so idly spent;
    Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem
    And gives thy pen both skill and argument.
    Rise, resty Muse, my love’s sweet face survey,  
    If Time have any wrinkle graven there;
    If any, be a satire to decay,
    And make Time’s spoils despised every where.
      Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life;
      So thou prevent’st his scythe and crooked knife.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 100 “Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget’st so long”

    The speaker is addressing his Muse directly, even calling her “Muse”; he audaciously instructs her to inspire only the artist who has skill and right understanding, that is, of course, himself.

    First Quatrain: Chiding the Muse

    Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget’st so long
    To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?
    Spend’st thou thy fury on some worthless song,
    Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light?

    The first quatrain of sonnet 100 finds the speaker chiding his Muse for keeping silent on issues that provide the Muse with “all thy might.”  He displays the bitter rebuke with two rhetorical questions.

    The first question inquires of the Muse where she has been that she could cause herself to become so lax in offering discourse in such important matters.  The second question, which requires an affirmative/negative response wants to know if this Muse has been wasting her powers in creating “some worthless song.”  

    The speaker then accuses the Muse of debasing herself to offer “base subjects light.”  He subsequently admonishes her that his objectives always remain profound.  His only genuine interest remains in beauty, love, and truth.  He therefore deems these qualities to be far superior to all lesser subjects, and so he urges the Muse not to become unmindful of these essential facts.

    Second Quatrain:  Commanding the Forgetful Muse

    Return, forgetful Muse, and straight redeem
    In gentle numbers time so idly spent;
    Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem
    And gives thy pen both skill and argument.

    The speaker offers a command to this Muse, who has become “forgetful,” to return to him, in order to inspire in his creation of the vital works, instead of remaining at leisure.  He wants her stop attempting to inspire those with lesser hearts and minds, for example those of poetasters.  He is obviously referring to his own poetic talent as he demands, “Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem / And gives thy pen both skill and argument.”

    The speaker knows that he possesses the educated eye and ear for poetry.  He knows that he is able to compose the profound lines that will continue to reverberate down through the centuries, as they carry forth the vital thoughts about his subjects.  His dramatic word-paintings will speak for his own age as they continue to inspire and enlighten others with their “skill and argument.”

    Third Quatrain:  Call to Accomplishment

    Rise, resty Muse, my love’s sweet face survey,  
    If Time have any wrinkle graven there;
    If any, be a satire to decay,
    And make Time’s spoils despised every where.

    The speaker then again begins to command his Muse to “Rise, resty Muse.”  He commands her to come out of her lazy leisure.  He demonstrates what he wants her to accomplish.  He is requiring her look to help him proof-read his works, in order to assist him in ironing out any “wrinkle” that he might have left “graven there.”  

    The Muse must assist him in making his poems so nearly perfect that their content and form will become and remain the standard by which beauty will be judged, “every where.” 

    One of this speaker’s favorite subjects has been the process of human aging.  Here he labels that theme, “a satire to decay.”  By placing before his memory and before that of his readers the fact that the aging and decaying process of the human physical body are seriously delicate and importantly vital matters, he believes that he is performing a vital service.  

    And at the same time, he is sustaining truth and beauty, which are inherent in his correct thinking.  His right thoughts, he believes, assist and inform his ability to dramatize all loveliness in his poetic works and always truthfully.

    The Couplet:  Sage Assistance

      Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life;
      So thou prevent’st his scythe and crooked knife.

    The speaker continues to hold to the thought that if his Muse will but offer him sage assistance in perfecting his sonnets, both he and the Muse will be capable of achieving “fame faster than Time wastes life.” 

    In order to encourage the Muse in this endeavor, the speaker promises that they both will receive credit in thwarting, “[Time’s] scythe and crooked knife.”  He is, of course, engaging in hyperbole.  

    He surely must be aware that such speed remains quite impossible, but he also is convinced that his exaggeration merely reflects the truth that life can imitate art, even as art reflects life.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 101 “O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends”

    The speaker in sonnet 101 “O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends” again addresses the Muse directly, asking her to continue to accompany him on his journey in creating an enduring poetry to bestow on posterity.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 101 “O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends”

    In sonnet 101 “O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends,” the speaker is again concocting a little piece of drama that seems to include a glowing yet deep back and forth between his Muse and himself.  They are not enemies, of course, but the clear and definite argument this speaker continues with his Muse  always provides the character of a bitter battle.

    Even as he seems to be continuing to create the same drama time and time again, the speaker still offers new, fresh, entertaining, and interesting little dramas. As he chides his Muse, the speaker allows the reader to experience a conflict that is imaginatively much more than an inner conflict, which ultimately, it certainly is.

    Sonnet 101 “O truant Muse  , what shall be thy amends”

    O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends  
    For thy neglect of truth in beauty dy’d?
    Both truth and beauty on my love depends;
    So dost thou too, and therein dignified.
    Make answer, Muse: wilt thou not haply say,
    ‘Truth needs no colour, with his colour fix’d;
    Beauty no pencil, beauty’s truth to lay;
    But best is best, if never intermix’d?’
    Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?
    Excuse not silence so; for ’t lies in thee
    To make him much outlive a gilded tomb
    And to be prais’d of ages yet to be.  
      Then do thy office, Muse; I teach thee how
      To make him seem long hence as he shows now.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 101 “O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends”

    The speaker in sonnet 101 is again speaking directly to his Muse, asking her to continue to accompany him on his journey in creating an enduring poetry to bestow on posterity.  This confident speaker believes that his little dramas delving into truth and beauty may become guiding lights for a younger generation and even for further generations to come.

    First Quatrain:  Addressing His Muse  

    O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends  
    For thy neglect of truth in beauty dy’d?
    Both truth and beauty on my love depends;
    So dost thou too, and therein dignified.

    In sonnet 101, the speaker again is addressing his Muse  directly by appealing to her by name, “Muse.”  The speaker proclaims that “truth and beauty” depend upon his “love.”  As for that matter, the Muse  depends upon his love also, for in reality, it is the speaker who wills the Muse into being.  The speaker, in effect, creates a mystical being with whom to spar.  Once again, he feigns his complaint regarding the Muse’s absence by calling her “truant.” 

    The speaker not only creates the Muse, but he also gives her substance through his conversations with her.  It is through his wrangling with her that she is “therein dignified.”  He willingly gives her power in order to understand better that his own power originates from a Higher Source.

    Second Quatrain:  Commanding the Muse  

    Make answer, Muse: wilt thou not haply say,
    ‘Truth needs no colour, with his colour fix’d;
    Beauty no pencil, beauty’s truth to lay;
    But best is best, if never intermix’d?’

    The speaker then begins to command the Muse to answer him, but he, of course, will be putting the words into the Muse’s mouth and qualifying her response, “wilt thou not haply say,” that truth is ethereal and not tainted or stained by the hues of earth; therefore, “his colour” is “fix’d.” 

    The speaker then continues by asserting that beauty requires “no pencil” in order to demonstrate truth; however, by narrating the truth well, the speaker presumes that his artistic talent will guarantee that truth will never be tangled up with any qualities that are beneath truth and beauty.  This devoted speaker is able to intuit that he is correct in his assumptions; thus he is elevating his belief from mere correctness to righteousness. 

    Third Quatrain:  A Dramatic Pretense

    Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?
    Excuse not silence so; for ’t lies in thee
    To make him much outlive a gilded tomb
    And to be prais’d of ages yet to be.

    In the third quatrain, the speaker continues his dramatic little pretense, as he gives the Muse the power to “make him much outlive a gilded tomb / And to be prais’d of ages yet to be.”  Speaking of himself and his talent in the third person, he assigns to the Muse  the capability of assisting in the future continuation and fame of his art.

    The speaker discerns the quality of his abilities and thus recognizes that “he needs no praise.”  But he still expects the Muse  to sing to him and not to make excuses for remaining dumb.

    This speaker is a quite a task master.  He knows what he wants, and he expects his Muse  to be as determined to create as he is.  He also insists that the quality of the Muse’s inspiration be equal or better than the quality of his own abilities to  absorb that inspiration.

    The Couplet:  Toward an Enduing Art

      Then do thy office, Muse; I teach thee how
      To make him seem long hence as he shows now.

    In the couplet, the speaker then commands the Muse to complete her assignment; he promises to assist by instructing the Muse on “how / To make him seem long hence.”  He knows that his art will endure and thus chides the Muse to join him in making sure it shines as brightly as they can create it. 

    Shakespeare Sonnet 102 “My love is strengthen’d, though more weak in seeming”

    The speaker in sonnet 102 My love is strengthen’d, though more weak in seeming” dramatizes the principle of moderation, even minimalism, as he explains his reasons for self-restraint in portraying the subject of love.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 102 “My love is strengthen’d, though more weak in seeming”

    In sonnet 102 My love is strengthen’d, though more weak in seeming” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker is musing on the nature and purpose of keeping his creations lean and crisp.  

    He asserts that too much effusion just stands in the way of understanding and the message can be lost.  This speaker’s primary focus is always on the best manner in which he can convey his message of love, truth, and beauty.

    Sonnet 102 “My love is strengthen’d, though more weak in seeming”

    My love is strengthen’d, though more weak in seeming
    I love not less, though less the show appear:
    That love is merchandiz’d whose rich esteeming
    The owner’s tongue doth publish every where.  
    Our love was new, and then but in the spring,
    When I was wont to greet it with my lays;
    As Philomel in summer’s front doth sing,
    And stops her pipe in growth of riper days:
    Not that the summer is less pleasant now  
    Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,
    But that wild music burthens every bough,
    And sweets grown common lose their dear delight.
      Therefore, like her, I sometime hold my tongue,
      Because I would not dull you with my song.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 102 “My love is strengthen’d, though more weak in seeming”

    The speaker in sonnet 102 My love is strengthen’d, though more weak in seeming” is dramatizing the principle of moderation, even minimalism, as he explains his reasons for self-restraint in portraying the subject of love.

    First Quatrain:  Drama and Feelings

    My love is strengthen’d, though more weak in seeming
    I love not less, though less the show appear:
    That love is merchandiz’d whose rich esteeming
    The owner’s tongue doth publish every where.  

    Sonnet 102finds the speaker addressing a general listener.  He is dramatizing his feelings about allowing ideas to remain unexpressed.  As he conveys the notion that “less is more,” he emphasizes that such a concept is especially necessary when broaching the subject of love.  

    At the same times, he makes it clear that even if he lays less stress on his love, that love never becomes less.  If the lover speaks of his love too enthusiastically and too often that love becomes “merchandize’d.”

    By scattering his emotion too vehemently and frequently, the lover’s emotion begins to appear insincere and false.  Readers have come to rely on this speaker’s obsession with truth, balance, harmony, and beauty.  

    He cherishes these qualities for his art; thus the quintessential artist in this speaker requires him to be in search of the nearly perfect, harmonious balance in art as well as in his life.

    Second Quatrain:    The Muse

    Our love was new, and then but in the spring,
    When I was wont to greet it with my lays;
    As Philomel in summer’s front doth sing,
    And stops her pipe in growth of riper days:

    The speaker’s initial awareness that his muse was operative in his work fostered a strong relationship of love for the speaker with that muse.  This love relationship urged him to create dramatic and melodious sonnets.  

    He alludes to Philomel, the Greek character from mythology that became a nightingale, as he asserts that despite the depth of his love, too excessive a singing would become regressive.  Thus he stresses the necessity of moderation in expressing his truest feelings.

    The speaker then will calm his “pipe” as the birds that in summer begin to control their own singing.  He stresses that such discipline will result in harmony.  Lest his heartfelt longings lead him into wallowing in the slime of zealotry, he will show that he has the ability to remain moderate.  

    He is able to balance his joys and sorrows because he recognizes and comprehends the nature of the onslaught of the promptings of excess in which the human heart and mind are wont to engage.

    Third Quatrain:   The Summer of Love

    Not that the summer is less pleasant now  
    Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,
    But that wild music burthens every bough,
    And sweets grown common lose their dear delight.

    By the third quatrain, the speaker has become desirous of conveying the message that the moderation he employs allows the summer of his love to remain and continue to enforce all the qualities that make summer and love agreeable to the human psyche.  

    He insists that “wild music” and “mournful hymns” sound out at too high a decibel level and thus assault the ears of listeners, interfering with the music’s ability to convey its message.

    The artist who remains focused on accuracy will never engage in heavy and tinsel-like embellishment.  Even though the qualities of overly dramatic discourse may seem appealing at first, they lose their attraction through overuse.  

    This speaker understands that too much of any physical property will diminish its attraction eventually.  He then asserts colorfully, “sweets grown common lose their dear delight.” 

    The Couplet:   Self-Discipline

      Therefore, like her, I sometime hold my tongue,
      Because I would not dull you with my song.

    The speaker reasons that his self-discipline remains supported by valid principles. So instead of over-drama coupled with mere lovely verbiage, this speaker will carefully orchestrate his works, keep them crisp and clean.  

    His creations will render the reader satisfied and not bedazzled by a lot of excess effusion.  He will always keep his reading/listening audience in mind so that his works may be understood in the clear and bright terms the speaker/writer has used to produce them.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 103 “Alack! what poverty my muse brings forth”

    In Shakespeare sonnet 103 “Alack! what poverty my muse brings forth,” the speaker addresses his sonnet, concentrating on its expression of beauty and worth above the contributions of both his talent and the inspiration of his muse.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 103 “Alack! what poverty my muse brings forth”

    The speaker in sonnet 103 again is assuring the poem of its value and purpose.  He makes it clear that the poem’s value will always rest with the poem, and not in the muse or even the writer of the sonnet.  As a creative artist, the speaker places emphasis on the product of his efforts, not on the agency—whether it be within or without himself.

    Sonnet 103 “Alack! what poverty my muse brings forth”

    Alack! what poverty my muse brings forth  
    That having such a scope to show her pride,
    The argument, all bare, is of more worth
    Than when it hath my added praise beside!
    O! blame me not, if I no more can write!
    Look in your glass, and there appears a face
    That over-goes my blunt invention quite,
    Dulling my lines and doing me disgrace.
    Were it not sinful then, striving to mend,
    To mar the subject that before was well?
    For to no other pass my verses tend
    Than of your graces and your gifts to tell;
      And more, much more, than in my verse can sit,
      Your own glass shows you when you look in it.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 103 “Alack! what poverty my muse brings forth”

    The speaker is confronting his sonnet, concentrating on its expression of beauty and worth above the contributions of both his talent and the inspiration of his muse. He is placing the sonnet itself above the tools and agents that are responsible for its existence.  

    First Quatrain:  The Poem and the Muse

    Alack! what poverty my muse brings forth  
    That having such a scope to show her pride,
    The argument, all bare, is of more worth
    Than when it hath my added praise beside!

    The first quatrain of sonnet 103 finds the speaker exclaiming enthusiastically that despite the inspiration of the muse the sonnet ultimately must rest on its own laurels.  The speaker does not wish to devalue the muse; after all, he has suffered through many a session because of her apparent absence. 

    However, the value of the muse will never be able to infuse the sonnet with any argument that can become “all bare” while projecting her own worth above that of the sonnet itself.  The pride of the muse must always remain muted if the sonnet is to reflect clearly its own pride of accomplishment.

    The speaker, that is, the creator of the sonnet, must also remain carefully in the background in order for the brilliance of the poem to retain the power of shining brightly forth. 

    The spiritual strength of the speaker’s subjects remain untainted by a lazy muse or a gifted writer.  By remaining steadfastly devoted to crafting truth throughout his works, the poet/speaker succeeds because of the merit of his subjects, not the trinkets and tinsel of music and artistry.

    Second Quatrain:   Disdain for Accountability

    O! blame me not, if I no more can write!
    Look in your glass, and there appears a face
    That over-goes my blunt invention quite,
    Dulling my lines and doing me disgrace.

    The speaker then begins to beg his poems not to hold him accountable if he can “no more write!”  He personifies his sonnet and dramatizes the situation by telling it to “look in your glass.”  It will see for itself that its subjects of beauty, truth, and love will “dull[ ] [his] lines and do[ ] [him] disgrace.”   

    By personifying the sonnet and having it look in the mirror, the speaker is insisting that the sonnet become more self-aware, seeing what is there, instead of imagining false qualities that will result in too much self-aggrandizement.

    The subject of art is always of central importance, and this speaker is assured that his choices remain so significant that his attempt at “invention” is merely “blunt[ed]” by the already exalted nature of those choices.  He admits that he does employ poetic devices, but his use of those devices serves a great function of allowing universal truths to be captured for posterity.  He does not personify for decoration but for greater clarity.

    Third Quatrain:  Artistic Exaggeration

    Were it not sinful then, striving to mend,  
    To mar the subject that before was well?
    For to no other pass my verses tend
    Than of your graces and your gifts to tell;

    The speaker then exaggerates the artistic attempt to craft “the subject”; in no way, can he “mend” what is not broken, but he could “mar” it, if he possessed not the perfectionist yet simplifying attitude toward his subject and his art. 

    This creative speaker admits that he writes for none other than his chosen subjects of love, beauty, and truth, and his works, therefore, portray the “graces and [ ] gifts” of those spiritual attributes.  The speaker’s methods attempt to capture only the highest value of his subjects, and his myriad ways of using poetic devices reflect only their true face, without paint and make-up. 

    The Couplet:   Playful Invitation

     And more, much more, than in my verse can sit,
      Your own glass shows you when you look in it.

    The speaker playfully invites the poem to let its mirror show its value and its beauty.  The poem will reflect much more than the poet is able to capture because his subjects, being themselves timeless and eternal, will reverberate throughout time and eternity. 

    Again, the speaker is professing his affection for creating not only beautiful sonnets but poems that reflect his favorite poetic issues of love, beauty, and truth.  Because this speaker, in fact, retains only a very limited message, he knows he must create little dramas that repeat his message in varying, colorful ways.  Such a chore could become tedious and monotonous—and ultimately fraudulent—in the hands of a lesser mindful craftsman.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 104 “To me, fair friend, you never can be old”

    As the speaker directly addresses his poem in Shakespeare Sonnet 104 “To me, fair friend, you never can be old,” he declaims on the immortality of the poetry that he is creating.  As he does so, he employs the seasons to assist in dramatizing his notions.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 104 “To me, fair friend, you never can be old”

    While the speaker in sonnet 104 “To me, fair friend, you never can be old” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence knows that through language evolution sometime in future, his tropes may lose their special nuances, he still remains convinced that their agelessness will compare well with the seasons that change constantly.

    Sonnet 104 “To me, fair friend, you never can be old”

    To me, fair friend, you never can be old
    For as you were when first your eye I ey’d,
    Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold
    Have from the forests shook three summers’ pride,
    Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn’d
    In process of the seasons have I seen,
    Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn’d,
    Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.  
    Ah! yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand,  
    Steal from his figure, and no pace perceiv’d;
    So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
    Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceiv’d:
      For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred:
      Ere you were born was beauty’s summer dead.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 104 “To me, fair friend, you never can be old”

    Shakespeare Sonnet 104 “To me, fair friend, you never can be old” is an example of the many in which the speaker addresses the poem itself.

    First Quatrain:  Lovingly Addressing His Sonnet

    To me, fair friend, you never can be old
    For as you were when first your eye I ey’d,
    Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold
    Have from the forests shook three summers’ pride,

    The creator of the Shakespeare sonnets is often addressing his poem, as he fashions a near personification.  Sonnet 104 thus finds the speaker addressing his poem as “fair friend”; however, he makes it quite clear that this “fair friend” is not a human friend, as he asserts “you never can be old.”  

    Such a statement could never be made truthfully about a human being.  Although this speaker does often exaggerate, he never makes statements that are flat out false, and he assiduously avoids exaggerating physical human qualities.

    The speaker is now addressing a sonnet that he wrote three years ago.  He tells the piece of verse that its beauty is as abundant as it was at the time it first came into his vision. Even following on three winter seasons that had changed the “forest,” which had shone with “summer’s pride,” the poem remains fresh with a youthful beauty.

    Second Quatrain:  After Three Years

    Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn’d
    In process of the seasons have I seen,
    Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn’d,
    Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.  

    Again the speaker emphasizes the age of the poem as three years old.  He reports that three springs have transformed themselves through three “yellow autumn[s].”  Three cool Aprils have been burned up by three hot Junes.  The freshness of the poem remains unchanged, however, unlike the seasons that swallow each other up, one after the other.

    As readers have on many other occasions in many other sonnets discovered, this speaker continues his obsession with the aging process in human beings.  While the human body will continue to transform itself through decrepitude and decay, the poem will remain as fresh as ever.  

    The poem is not subject to the unpleasant transformation that the human physical encasement must undergo.  The poem will continue to remain ever beautiful, as it glows with youth and vitality.

    Third Quatrain:  Cannot Predict Language Change

    Ah! yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand,  
    Steal from his figure, and no pace perceiv’d;
    So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
    Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceiv’d:

    The speaker then hedges somewhat in speculating that his “eye may be deceiv’d” by beauty alone because beauty, being in the eye of the beholder, may behave “like a dial-hand” and “steal from his figure.”  

    This speaker, although he is a talented, clever poet, cannot predict how language might change down through the centuries.  His “figures” that work so well during his own lifetime might become worn out or change meaning over time, despite the skillful talent of the poet.

    And because the evolution of language is something the poet cannot control, he has his speaker make his future disclaimer as subtly as possible.  But the declaimer remains important for the speaker to continue to assume the superiority of his works for now and all time.

    The Couplet:  Assuaging Negativity

      For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred:
      Ere you were born was beauty’s summer dead.

    But because the poet/speaker does consider himself tainted with this “fear,” he redounds with a strong assertion that despite such mutability, before his poem was written there existed no height of beauty.   

    Even if the speaker exaggerates the power of his poem to exude beauty, he can assuage any negativity with the awareness of the special attributes his own poem will contribute to the creation of beauty because he knows the poem lives in perpetuity—”thou age unbred.” 

    If “the Bard” Could Visit Today

    The heart of the poet, Edward de Vere, if he could visit the world today in the 21st century surely would be gladdened by the long-standing reception of his poetry and his works having earned him the title of “the Bard”–this despite the fact that he has been confused with the actor named Gulielmus Shakspere, who resided at Stratford-upon-Avon.  

    The Earl of Oxford would also likely be somewhat dismayed by the onslaught of postmodernism whose influence has caused his works to become nearly incomprehensible in many circles.  And you would not want to get him started on the issue of “political correctness” and its disastrous influence on all the arts.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 105 “Let not my love be call’d idolatry”

    The speaker in sonnet 105 “Let not my love be call’d idolatry” fashions an artist’s holy trinity of “fair, kind, and true,” a reflection of his beloved subjects of beauty, love, and truth.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 105 “Let not my love be call’d idolatry”

    In sonnet 105 “Let not my love be call’d idolatry” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker creates a new trinity, an artist’s trinity perhaps, consisting of the three qualities, “fair, kind, and true.”  He begins by railing against the blasphemy of “idolatry,” as he demonstrates that his devotion is dedicated to only One Being.

    As the speaker declares that he will not have his beloved thought of as “an idol show,” he is employing a pun on the term “idol.”  In his usage, he is working the term to mean both “idol” and “idle.”  Thus, he is warning against interpreting his love as “idolatry” and his beloved as a graven image or a meaningless demonstration.

    Sonnet 105 “Let not my love be call’d idolatry”

    Let not my love be call’d idolatry
    Nor my beloved as an idol show,
    Since all alike my songs and praises be
    To one, of one, still such, and ever so.
    Kind is my love to-day, to-morrow kind,
    Still constant in a wondrous excellence;
    Therefore my verse, to constancy confin’d,  
    One thing expressing, leaves out difference.
    ‘Fair, kind, and true,’ is all my argument,
    ‘Fair, kind, and true,’ varying to other words;
    And in this change is my invention spent,
    Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords.  
      ‘Fair, kind, and true,’ have often liv’d alone,
      Which three till now never kept seat in one.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 105 “Let not my love be call’d idolatry”

    The speaker in sonnet 105 is enshrining an artist’s holy trinity of “fair, kind, and true,” a reflection of his beloved subjects of beauty, love, and truth.

    First Quatrain:  No Mere Idol Worship

    Let not my love be call’d idolatry
    Nor my beloved as an idol show,
    Since all alike my songs and praises be
    To one, of one, still such, and ever so.

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 105, the speaker exhorts his listener/reader not to interpret his reverence to his beloved as idol worship and by extension not to think of the object of his passion as a trivial target.  

    He does not put on display his discourse for the purpose of pomp and glitter.  His poetry not only reflects his considerable talent, but it also engages the world with respect and love for its subject matter.

    The speaker insists that his entire canon speaks with a unity that no one can denigrate or deny.  He praises only one and that one is the spiritual reality that creates and upholds all creation.  

    Nevertheless, this speaker time and time again demonstrates that his particular interest and talent lay in creating poems about love, beauty, and truth.  All of his “songs and praises” pay homage to the reality he calls, “my beloved.” 

    Second Quatrain:   Reality Stabilized

    Kind is my love to-day, to-morrow kind,
    Still constant in a wondrous excellence;
    Therefore my verse, to constancy confin’d,  
    One thing expressing, leaves out difference.

    The consistency of this speaker’s love stabilizes his reality, and his poetry reflects this stability.  His love is “kind” “to-day” and “to-morrow.”  It is by grace and “a wondrous excellence” that he has the ability to devote himself so single-mindedly to his preoccupation.  His poetry shines as a monument to “constancy.” 

    Because of this dedication, this devoted speaker is committed to conveying a single message, which “leaves out difference.”  Without such a focused heart and mind, “difference” would sever his grasp and break the concentration required to remain integrated with his soul power.

    Third Quatrain:  A Holy Trinity of Art

    ‘Fair, kind, and true,’ is all my argument,
    ‘Fair, kind, and true,’ varying to other words;
    And in this change is my invention spent,
    Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords.  

    The speaker then spells out his stance; he argues only for what is “fair, kind, and true.”  These seemingly three qualities become a trinity for his invention:  “three themes in one.”  The speaker alludes to the mystery of the holy trinity, wherein abide three Gods in one.  And as the holy trinity upholds and explains the nature of spirit, this speaker/poet’s trinity offers “wondrous scope.” 

    The Couplet:   Chanting Its Name

      ‘Fair, kind, and true,’ have often liv’d alone,
      Which three till now never kept seat in one.

    The speaker repeats the three names that compose his artist’s trinity: “Fair, kind, and true.” This trinity is so important that he has now chanted its name a third time. The speaker then reveals that the ordinary usage of these terms would define each separately. 

    However, in this speaker/artist’s cosmogony, these three when taken together create a fresh reality that until he had thought them into existence had never combined to create the one that he now maintains.  He regards his position as a king reigning over a kingdom or as the Great Spirit Creator reigning over His creation. 

    Shakespeare Sonnet 106 “When in the chronicle of wasted time”

    Addressing his sonnet, the speaker in Shakespeare sonnet 106 “When in the chronicle of wasted time”is celebrating the poem’s ability to portray beauty skillfully, and his talent actually outshines that of the ancients.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 106 “When in the chronicle of wasted time”

    In sonnet 106 “When in the chronicle of wasted time” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker is studying earlier poetry and discovering that those writers had limited talent.  They were not able to accomplish the mature level of art that this speaker now is achieving.

    Sonnet 106 “When in the chronicle of wasted time”

    When in the chronicle of wasted time
    I see descriptions of the fairest wights,
    And beauty making beautiful old rime*,
    In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights,
    Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty’s best,
    Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
    I see their antique pen would have express’d
    Even such a beauty as you master now.
    So all their praises are but prophecies
    Of this our time, all you prefiguring;
    And, for they look’d but with divining eyes,
    They had not skill enough your worth to sing:
      For we, which now behold these present days,
      Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 106 “When in the chronicle of wasted time”

    Addressing the sonnet, the speaker/poet in Shakespeare sonnet 106 celebrates the poem’s ability to skillfully portray beauty that outshines that of the ancients.

    First Quatrain:  Sometime in the Past

    When in the chronicle of wasted time
    I see descriptions of the fairest wights,
    And beauty making beautiful old rime,
    In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights,

    The speaker of Shakespeare sonnet 106 is in the process of reading poetry from earlier poets, and he take notice that some of those poems are attempting to portray beauty.  They make their attempt to capture beauty in a “beautiful old rime,” by portraying and complimenting the female sex and warriors.   

    The speaker makes no special judgment about those pieces yet but instead is simply reporting what he finds,  and he frames his thought in a subordinating clause, which commences with “when,” a subordinate conjunction. 

    The entire first quatrain thus plays out as a subordinate clause; therefore, the speaker causes the reader has to have to wait for the second stanza to complete the speaker’s entire  thought.

    Second Quatrain: Exaggerations Fails to Achieve 

    Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty’s best,
    Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
    I see their antique pen would have express’d
    Even such a beauty as you master now.

    The speaker then is asserting that as he is taking note of the best proffered in the ancient pieces; he is aware that those poets were striving to achieve what the speaker’s poems have currently accomplished.  

    The pieces that relied heavily upon the exaggeration of beauty of  the parts of physical encasement—such as “Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow”—clearly cannot favorably compare with the art of this present speaker/poet; he has transcended his art beyond the physical to the spiritual level of being.  

    In the first quatrain, the speaker had commenced by asserting that after all is said and done, those ancient poem dabblers merely wasted their time in crafting such common, mundane pieces of description.  

    This speaker now arrests their flights of fancy by averring that their attempt to communicate beauty rests only in “a blazon.”  Although they attempted to accomplish greatness, they remained immature, vulgar, and obvious in their striking.

    Third Quatrain:   Reaching Coveted Goals

    So all their praises are but prophecies
    Of this our time, all you prefiguring;
    And, for they look’d but with divining eyes,
    They had not skill enough your worth to sing:

    Thus, all that those earlier poem dabblers were capable to achieving has come to equal simple “prophecies.”  They, no doubt, had visualized specific artistic goals, which they were unable to bring to fruition.  However, they may serve as a precursor.

    They seem to have been able to assume that a form might exist that would be capable of expressing in a profound way the concept of beauty, but they simply did not possess the “skill” and wherewithal necessary to actually achieve the task that was set before them.

    The Couplet:   The Achievements of Genuine Talent

      For we, which now behold these present days,
      Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.

    In the couplet, the speaker ruminates on and then fashions the claim that those earlier poets would express, it they had possessed the ability to experience the excellence, which this brilliant sonneteer of great talent is now achieving.  

    Those poets would have reported that they also saw great beauty and became filled with inspiration, but they would also have to confess that they lacked the skill to compose well enough to encapsulate their observations. 

    Shakespeare Sonnet 107 “Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul”

    Addressing his poem in sonnet 107 “Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul,” the poet/speaker again affirms that despite the ravages of time and wrong thinking that may obliterate and denigrate art, his sonnet will live on.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 107 “Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul”

    The speaker in sonnet 107 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence is once again affirming that spiritual immortality remains possible through his poems.  The poem will stand as a monument to the speaker’s love.  His ability to erect such a monument remains steadfast. 

    The speaker insists that the poet’s monuments will outlast all the sculpted stones of political leaders and war heroes.  He is blessed with vision and the talent to place his love of beauty and truth in little dramas that, he is convinced, will stand the test of time.

    Sonnet 107 “Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul”

    Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul
    Of the wide world dreaming on things to come,  
    Can yet the lease of my true love control,
    Suppos’d as forfeit to a confin’d doom.
    The mortal moon hath her eclipse endur’d,
    And the sad augurs mock their own presage;
    Incertainties now crown themselves assur’d,
    And peace proclaims olives of endless age.
    Now with the drops of this most balmy time
    My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes,
    Since, spite of him, I ’ll live in this poor rime*,
    While he insults o’er dull and speechless tribes:
      And thou in this shalt find thy monument,
      When tyrants’ crests and tombs of brass are spent.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 107 “Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul”

    As the speaker addresses his sonnet, he again affirms that despite the ravages of time and wrong thinking that may obliterate and denigrate art, his sonnet will live on.

    First Quatrain:  No Stopping Progress

    Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul
    Of the wide world dreaming on things to come,  
    Can yet the lease of my true love control,
    Suppos’d as forfeit to a confin’d doom.

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 107, the speaker declares that nothing can halt the progress of his creations, not his “own fears,” nor the fears of “the wide world.”  That world tries to prognosticate the future while it keeps freedom of thought and wisdom of talent in check. 

    A “dreaming” world holds in its imagination a source of squalor that would limit and denigrate the enlightened, talented artist.  Historically, submission to false ideals limits art and thereby causes “forfeit to a confin’d doom.”  

    But this speaker takes a strong stance against such negativity and conformity, as he asserts aggressively that none of this doomsaying will affect his art.  Even his “own fears” he determines to rouse and dominate for the good of his art.

    Second Quatrain:   Nature and Adversity

    The mortal moon hath her eclipse endur’d,
    And the sad augurs mock their own presage;
    Incertainties now crown themselves assur’d,
    And peace proclaims olives of endless age.

    The speaker then demonstrates that even nature provides examples of entities overcoming their own adversities; for example, the “eclipse” of the moon is an insult to that glowing body, but the moon remains steadfast, returning again despite temporarily having its light put out. 

    Soothsayers reporting future calamities often exhibit behavior that limits their credibility.  Many of those “world dreaming” folks like to pretend to be prophets, even though they spout “incertainties.”  Their portentousness becomes a blemish, when their many claims are rendered false by time.

    During times of supposed “peace,” citizens fail to remember that there has never really been a time of peace on earth.  There are, in fact, no “olives of endless age,” to which the peaceniks like to refer.  The fog of imagination continuously hides the reality of earth life, except to the poet of talent and vision who strives to cut through it.

    Third Quatrain:  Creative Interludes

    Now with the drops of this most balmy time
    My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes,
    Since, spite of him, I ’ll live in this poor rime,
    While he insults o’er dull and speechless tribes:

    The speaker has enjoyed a period of creativity which he calls “drops of the most balmy time.”  It is useful to remember all the times when the speaker has complained mightily about this lack of creativity, even as he continues to create. But now this talented speaker is celebrating a wealth of inspiration, and his love “looks fresh.” 

     Nevertheless, he is always aware that “Death” still looms in the future for him, but his art affords him a place to reside eternally, “I’ll live in this poor rime.”  He rationalizes that Death will accost those who are “dull and speechless,” but not those who enforce a permanent vessel for their spiritual remains.

    The Couplet:   The Poet’s Monument

      And thou in this shalt find thy monument,
      When tyrants’ crests and tombs of brass are spent.

    The sonnet will, in fact, stand as a monument to the poet, who has lovingly molded his affection in his poetry.  The poetry will remain even after the monuments erected to despotic rulers have been toppled.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 108 “What’s in the brain, that ink may character”

    Sonnets 108 “What’s in the brain, that ink may character” and 126 “O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power”should possibly be grouped with the “marriage poems” 1-17, in which the speaker pleads with a young man to marry and produce lovely children.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 108 “What’s in the brain, that ink may character”

    It is likely that the misplacement of sonnets 108 “What’s in the brain, that ink may character” and 126″O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power” has resulted in the erroneous interpretation of sonnets 18-126 as being addressed to a “young man.”  Sonnet 108 addresses a “sweet boy,” and sonnet 126 addresses “my lovely boy.” 

    The main argument in sonnets 1-17 is that such a physically attractive creature should marry and produce heirs, who would then also be attractive, and supply the poet/speaker with unlimited material for his sonnets.  

    Sonnet 108 “What’s in the brain, that ink may character”

    What’s in the brain, that ink may character
    Which hath not figur’d to thee my true spirit?
    What’s new to speak, what new to register,
    That may express my love, or thy dear merit?
    Nothing, sweet boy; but yet, like prayers divine,
    I must each day say o’er the very same;
    Counting no old thing old, thou mine, I thine,
    Even as when first I hallow’d thy fair name.
    So that eternal love in love’s fresh case
    Weighs not the dust and injury of age,
    Nor gives to necessary wrinkles place,
    But makes antiquity for aye his page;
      Finding the first conceit of love there bred,
      Where time and outward form would show it dead.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 108 “What’s in the brain, that ink may character”

    Sonnets 108, as well as 126, should possibly be grouped with the “marriage poems” 1-17, in which the speaker pleads with a young man to marry and produce lovely children.

    First Quatrain:  Emphasizing His True Spirit

    What’s in the brain, that ink may character
    Which hath not figur’d to thee my true spirit?
    What’s new to speak, what new to register,
    That may express my love, or thy dear merit?

    In the first quatrain, the speaker addresses the young man, whom he has been exhorting to marry and produce beautiful heirs.  The speaker’s intention is to emphasize his “true spirit.”  He wants to stress his sincerity to the lad, and so he essentially says that he has, in fact, said it all, and wonders what more he can say or do to persuade.

    The speaker makes clear that because he loves the young man, he has the latter’s best interests at heart.  His sonnets have “express[ed] [the speaker’s] love,” and they have, as well, expressed the “dear merit” of the youth.  The speaker wants to assure the younger man that he believes all of the glowing attributes he has defined in the poems to be genuine.  

    Second Quatrain:  No Old Argument

    Nothing, sweet boy; but yet, like prayers divine,
    I must each day say o’er the very same;
    Counting no old thing old, thou mine, I thine,
    Even as when first I hallow’d thy fair name.

    The speaker then answers his own question:  there is nothing new he could add, but his pleading for the young man to marry and produce heirs (heirs that would also be those of the speaker) is like praying.  He must pray every day and plead every day “o’er the very same.”  

    The speaker claims that even if often repeated he will not consider his argument old and stale, and he requests that the young lad do the same.  The speaker will not deem the young man’s arguments old, meaning tiresome, and the young man will give the older man the same consideration.  

    The speaker then invokes the time when he “first [ ] hallow’d [the young man’s] fair name.”  And that first time would be in sonnet 1, where the speaker says, “Thou that art now the world’s fresh ornament,” and declared, “From fairest creatures we desire increase.” 

    Third Quatrain:  Continuing Beauty

    So that eternal love in love’s fresh case
    Weighs not the dust and injury of age,
    Nor gives to necessary wrinkles place,
    But makes antiquity for aye his page;

    The speaker then adds on additional reason that the young man should marry: “So that eternal love in love’s fresh case / Weighs not the dust and injury of age.”  Then too, by procreating heirs, who can continue the beauty and love of both generations, the young father will eliminate the curse of father time-imposition that will cause those “necessary wrinkles.” 

    Even though the speaker, the young potential father, and the heir will age, the poet/speaker will be able to frame them in the sonnets that will “make[ ] antiquity for aye his page.” 

    The Couplet:  Capturing Love and Beauty in Sonnets

     Finding the first conceit of love there bred,
      Where time and outward form would show it dead.

    The “eternal love” that continues like a thread through the generations will become outwardly apparent if the lad will marry and produce beautiful offspring.  The spiritual level will thus be represented at least for a time by those lovely physical encasements.

    If the speaker succeeds in persuading the young man to marry and produce heirs, the beauty and love will continue, as the poet/speaker will be able to capture their souls in sonnets, even though their physical bodies will age and perish.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 109 “O! Never say that I was false of heart”

    As he addresses his muse in sonnet 109 “O! Never say that I was false of heart,” this prolific and talented speaker begins to soften the harshness that once accompanied his complaining as he bemoaned his separation from the inspiration provided by his indispensable muse.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 109 “O! Never say that I was false of heart”

    The speaker in sonnet 109″O! Never say that I was false of heart” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence again holds a conversation with his muse.  He wants to solidify the notion that he will always remain constant in his relationship with her.  Despite this clever speaker’s sporadic periods of allowing his mental fields to lie fallow, he will always return to plow and plant.  

    This talented, accomplished speaker reaffirms that his muse, which represents and contains his writing talent and inspiration, is the most important part of his being.  As he calls his muse “my rose,” he asserts his loyalty to truth and beauty that he has so often avowed.

    This thematic group “The Muse Sonnets” varies, with the speaker at times addressing his talent (his writing ability) and at other times addressing his muse, while often still he can be found addressing the sonnet itself.  His life represents a trinity of talent, muse, and work.  

    As many of life’s endeavors may be sectioned into three aspects—such as the knower, the knowing, and the known—this speaker often wrenches apart his undisputed unity simply to give himself the opportunity to dramatize each aspect for various purposes.  Often the speaker will isolate one of the aspects in order to complain about the absence of the muse or that dryness resulting from periods of low inspiration.

    Sonnet 109 “O! Never say that I was false of heart”

    O! Never say that I was false of heart  
    Though absence seem’d my flame to qualify.
    As easy might I from myself depart
    As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie:
    That is my home of love: if I have rang’d,
    Like him that travels, I return again;  
    Just to the time, not with the time exchang’d,
    So that myself bring water for my stain.
    Never believe, though in my nature reign’d,
    All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood,
    That it could so preposterously be stain’d,  
    To leave for nothing all thy sum of good;
      For nothing this wide universe I call,
      Save thou, my rose; in it thou art my all.

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    Commentary on“O! Never say that I was false of heart”

    The speaker is addressing his muse, as he begins to soften the harshness that once played out in his complaining as he spoke of separation from his beloved muse.

    First Quatrain:  Forgiving Fickleness

    O! Never say that I was false of heart  
    Though absence seem’d my flame to qualify.
    As easy might I from myself depart
    As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie:

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 109, the speaker commands his muse not to think him fickle even though he sometimes allows his gifts to rest for longer periods of time than he would like.  

    His absence from the muse, he suggests, is his own doing; he no longer blames her for abandoning him as he has done so many times before.  The speaker assures the muse that she is the entity that preserves his “soul,” his deepest love.  

    This assertive speaker would as soon “from [him]self depart” as from his heart’s inspiration.  His importance and strength as a writer depend primarily on his bundle of gifts and talent that reside literally in his own mind and heart, but he projects these qualities figuratively onto his muse.  

    This talented writer’s muse, therefore, is always more than an ordinary muse.  She does appreciably more than merely inspire and motivate because she also retains and thus sustains his abilities.

    Second Quatrain:  Home Is Where the Muse Is

    That is my home of love: if I have rang’d,
    Like him that travels, I return again;  
    Just to the time, not with the time exchang’d,
    So that myself bring water for my stain.

    The speaker then asserts that the muse is, in fact, his home, but she is a very special home “of love.”  Because his home is where the muse resides, he knows that she lives in his own mind and heart; thus, he avers that even when he seems to leave his talents lying dormant, he does, in good time, return to them.  

    The speaker thinks of his mind/heart as a fallow field while he is traveling from his muse, but he insists that he never allows anything to replace or usurp his true love, and he himself washes away any guilt he might accrue for having left the field too long.

    The metaphoric field of fallowness vs fecundity plays out appropriately for the art of writing.  Because the writer must engage themes and attitudes as well as literary devices, the nature of inspiration must always come into play.  The prolific artist prays that his field will remain fecund, despite the seasons of fallowness.  

    This speaker asserts his intentions but only through his dramatic representations.  He will never allow a false modesty to blight his creations, and he need never worry that such could intrude, because he keeps his muse central in his mind and heart—in his “home of love.”

    Third Quatrain:  Human Frailties Intrude

    Never believe, though in my nature reign’d,
    All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood,
    That it could so preposterously be stain’d,  
    To leave for nothing all thy sum of good;

    The speaker then implores his muse to realize that although he knows his human nature contains “frailties,” he could never ignore her for longer periods of time than are absolutely essential; he would never allow his own work ethic to “so preposterously be stain’d.”   

    Because his muse contains that part of him where his gifts reside, she signifies his own and “[her] sum of good.”  He insists on making it clear that he remains attached to his muse in soulful ways.  He cherishes all that is good and true and beautiful, as he has so many times averred.

    The Couplet:  The Muse and the Creative Nature

    For nothing this wide universe I call,
    Save thou, my rose; in it thou art my all.

    The speaker then avows that in “this wide universe,” his muse—his talent, his affinity for the beautiful and the true—alone and nothing else represents for him the creative nature that he most cherishes.  The speaker will continue to cherish and acknowledge his good fortune at having been blessed with the talent that he knows he is able to confirm and continue to develop.  

    This creative speaker’s talent will never grow stale because he possesses the wisdom and the motivation to keep it fresh and thriving.  Quite appropriately, he chooses to call his muse “my rose,” the symbol for beauty, which he fiercely defends and lovingly evokes in his sonnets.  In that “wide universe,” his muse is all-important to him, as he declares, “in it thou art my all.”

    Shakespeare Sonnet 110  “Alas! ’tis true I have gone here and there”

    Addressing his muse, the speaker in sonnet 110 Alas! ’tis true I have gone here and there” confesses that he has behaved in ways that he now detests and rejects, and he affirms his dedication to truth and love.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 110 “Alas! ’tis true I have gone here and there”

    In sonnet 110 “Alas! ’tis true I have gone here and there” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker presents his drama in a somber, confessional mode.  He is evaluating the results of his behavior, as he rummages through his mental forest, trying to determine what he must prune out in order to grow in his true nature and attitudes.

    The speaker asserts and reaffirms his commitment and dedication to truth and love.  As he offers the confession that he has been behaved in an unbecoming manner, he thus begins to declare that he will reject inappropriate behavior because he hate that sort of debauchery.

    The speaker is thus realizing that he has been permitting himself to become too closely identified with the physical level of existence, which neglects the spiritual.  He understands that his talent for creating insightful poetry will be adversely affected if he continues such behavior. 

    The speaker. therefore, waxes deeply philosophical as he confesses and vows to make amends to his heavenly muse, who is the emissary and earthly representative of the divine Creator, Who has bestowed on him his rare talent for creating dramatic, insightful  discourse.

    Sonnet 110 “Alas! ’tis true I have gone here and there”

    Alas! ’tis true I have gone here and there
    And made myself a motley to the view,
    Gor’d mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear,
    Made old offences of affections new;  
    Most true it is that I have look’d on truth
    Askance and strangely; but, by all above,
    These blenches gave my heart another youth,
    And worse essays prov’d thee my best of love.
    Now all is done, save what shall have no end:
    Mine appetite I never more will grind
    On newer proof, to try an older friend,
    A god in love, to whom I am confin’d.
      Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best,
      Even to thy pure and most most loving breast.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 110 “Alas! ’tis true I have gone here and there”

    As he once again addresses his muse, the speaker confesses that he has been behaving in ways that contradict and thus impede his progress on his creative path of dedication to beauty, truth and love.

    First Quatrain:  Admission of Debauchery

    Alas! ’tis true I have gone here and there
    And made myself a motley to the view,
    Gor’d mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear,
    Made old offences of affections new;  

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 110, the speaker admits—”Alas!  ‘tis true”—that he has “gone here and there” in debauchery that left himself looking disheveled and miserable.  He has been guilty of acting against his own better judgment.  

    The speaker confesses that has “sold cheap what is most dear,” causing himself to regret his indefensible choices.  His wretched behavior “made old offences of affections news.”  He has made enemies of those who would have gladly become his friends, if he had he not selfishly contaminated thoserelationships.

    The speaker attempts to elucidate before his own mind and that of his muse certain behaviors which he now realizes can lead him astray from his cherished goals.  He must admit to all the offenses in order to determine the best path to take in order to walk away from them and eliminate their negative influence on his ability to remain focused on his main interests of truth, beauty, and love.

    Second Quatrain: Avowed Allegiance to Truth and Beauty

    Most true it is that I have look’d on truth
    Askance and strangely; but, by all above,
    These blenches gave my heart another youth,
    And worse essays prov’d thee my best of love.

    Still in the confession mode, the speaker then admits worse behavior when he “look’d on truth / Askance and strangely.”  In many sonnets, the speaker has avowed his allegiance to what is true and beautiful, so this admission takes a remarkable amount of courage. 

    The speaker is facing down demons, as he works to become closer to his ideals.  He confesses to his muse as a religious devotee confesses to a spiritual leader or to the Divine Reality.  

    Luckily, the speaker can aver that his former engagement with wickedness had assisted him in returning to his earlier innocence.  The more he had been tempted by evil the more he came to  understand that his soul, the spark of the Divine represented by the muse, held his “best of love.” 

    As the speaker continues his struggles against his profane nature, he becomes more and more aware of the evil that prompts humankind to evade their spiritual natures.  Because he now hates his earlier bad behavior, he has become aggressive in his determination to supplant his the trials and tribulations that would likely again send him into the realm of spiritual poverty.

    Third Quatrain:  Turning Attention to Truth

    Now all is done, save what shall have no end:
    Mine appetite I never more will grind
    On newer proof, to try an older friend,
    A god in love, to whom I am confin’d.

    The speaker then asserts that he has now experienced what is necessary to make him comprehend that some behavior is not nacceptable and that he is now directing his attention solely to the eternal.  He has no desire to live by physical desires alone—”Mine appetite I never more will grind.” 

    Instead of looking for satisfaction in physical endeavors, henceforth the speaker will remain focused on his “older friend / A god in love, to whom I am confin’d.”  He sees that his muse—his talent, his soul—represents the infinite and eternal.  He is aware that, sense pleasures and the worldly debauchery serve only to keep him earth-bound and concentrated on the physical level of being.

    The duality, through which humankind must ever maneuver, has trapped the speaker as it traps all sentient beings.  He is fortunate enough to have the brain-power with which to discriminate and determine the behaviors that will lead him to his cherished goals, rather than land him in the pit of degradation and misery. 

    The Couplet:  Profound Realization

    Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best,
      Even to thy pure and most most loving breast.

    The speaker, after his profound confession and realization, commands his muse to accept his declaration and hereafter keep him securely attached “to thy pure and most most loving breast.”  He repeats the superlative, “most,” emphasizing his understanding that he must place his trust in the love of his Divine Reality or Muse.  

    This deep-thinking speaker understand that the usefulness of the spiritual level of reality opens up a better path to a prosperous life, contrasting mightily with the physical and mental levels.  

    Those levels of duality are rife with trials and tribulation.  Even as material world remains in command, he realizes that he must cherish his relationship with the Eternal Reality, thus demanding that that relationship become and remain a close one.

    This speaker’s discourse may thus be likened to a prayer, even as it is somewhat secularized but with his muse holding the sanctified position of the Divine Beloved, the Divine Reality, or God.  

    The speaker’s audience has observed as he has become interiorized as well as insightful through his creativity.  He holds his talent in high esteem, desiring to strengthen its power; therefore, he has become ever more determined to examine and enhance a closer  relationship with the Source of his talent.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 111 “O! for my sake do you with Fortune chide”

    Sonnet 111 “O! for my sake do you with Fortune chide” reveals a biographical fact that points to the 17th Earl of Oxford, Edward de Vere, as the true author of the Shakespearean oeuvre. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 111 “O! for my sake do you with Fortune chide”

    Sonnet 111 “O! for my sake do you with Fortune chide” is one of the Shakespeare sonnets, which includes a biographical tidbit that could be attributed only to Edward de Vere, 17 th Earl of Oxford, not the Stratford man, who has been traditionally considered the Shakespeare write.

    While it is certainly possible to read and appreciate the Shakespeare sonnet sequence without deep consideration of the biography of the writer, certain facts emerge that render it desirable to know at least a modicum about that biography.  As the Oxfordians and Stratfordians ply their trade in debate, they are both obligated to address issues that the Shakespeare writer offers in his works.

    For example, sonnet 111 engenders a question for the Stratfordians: how would a man of the status of the Stratford resident have been afforded a grant from the crown only available to the an earl? 

    According to Gary Goldstein, editor of Elizabethan Review, “In 1586, to rescue him from penury, the Queen granted the Earl an annual pension of £1,000.”  The speaker in sonnet 111 reveals that he has not acquitted himself well in supporting his life financially, and he must take “public means” for his subsistence.

    Sonnet 111 “O! for my sake do you with Fortune chide”

    O! for my sake do you with Fortune chide
    The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds,  
    That did not better for my life provide
    Than public means which public manners breeds.
    Thence comes it that my name receives a brand,
    And almost thence my nature is subdu’d
    To what it works in, like the dyer’s hand:
    Pity me, then, and wish I were renew’d;
    Whilst, like a willing patient, I will drink
    Potions of eisel ’gainst my strong infection;
    No bitterness that I will bitter think,  
    Nor double penance, to correct correction.
      Pity me, then, dear friend, and I assure ye
      Even that your pity is enough to cure me.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 111 “O! for my sake do you with Fortune chide”

    Sonnet 111 reveals a bit of biographical information that can point only to the Earl of Oxford, Edward de Vere, as the true author of the Shakespearean oeuvre.

    First Quatrain:  A Biographical Tidbit

    O! for my sake do you with Fortune chide
    The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds,  
    That did not better for my life provide
    Than public means which public manners breeds.

    The speaker in sonnet 111 is addressing his muse, continuing his confessional mode from sonnet 110.  This time he is broaching the subject of his finances.  He feels that he is being “chide[d]” by his muse as well as by Fortune.  He distances himself, at least a short way, from the blame, as he implies that he is the victim of “the guilty goddess of my harmful deeds.” 

    Those harmful deeds caused him to lose his inheritance, and only by the grace of the Queen is he sustained financially.  He is ashamed that he “did not better for [his] life provide,” because taking public assistance causes him to breed “public manners.”  

    Second Quatrain:  Living on “Public Means”

    Thence comes it that my name receives a brand,
    And almost thence my nature is subdu’d
    To what it works in, like the dyer’s hand:
    Pity me, then, and wish I were renew’d;

    Because he is obliged to accept “public means,” the speaker is required to fulfill specific obligations that he finds distasteful.  Likely, the speaker is referring to his obligation to compose and stage plays because of his financial situation, instead of because of the love he holds for art creation from pure inspiration.

    The speaker’s name then becomes “a brand.”  And this fact likely remains responsible for his employing the pseudonym, “William Shakespeare.”  By producing these types of works, that is, “works for hire,” he fears his own brand will be tarnished.  Thus using a pseudonym will guaranteed that he can retain his dignity and privacy.  

    The speaker reveals to the muse that his nature, while working the plays, takes on the tincture of theatre life, “like the dyer’s hand,” and he begs the muse to take pity on him and “wish [he] were renew’d.”

    Third Quatrain:  A Bitter Drink

    Whilst, like a willing patient, I will drink
    Potions of eisel ’gainst my strong infection;
    No bitterness that I will bitter think,  
    Nor double penance, to correct correction.

    Even though the speaker must “drink / Potions of eisel ‘gainst [his] strong infection,” he will not  become bitter in his thinking.  The bitter vinegar drink, though it may be unpleasant on his physical tongue, will not cause his creative use of language, his metaphorical tongue, to turn sour. He will not allow his public endeavors to taint his true love of sonnet creation based on love, beauty, and truth—his artist’s holy trinity.

    The speaker is again using the negativity that appears in his life to structure his spiritual endeavors.  By consulting with his muse and asking her to pity him, he removes the glare of his public image that he feels does not represent his true self.

    The Couplet:  Just a Little Pity

      Pity me, then, dear friend, and I assure ye
      Even that your pity is enough to cure me.

    So again, this speaker implores his muse to “pity [him].”  And calling her “dear friend,” he asserts that just that small amount of pity will erase the error of having to involve himself in worldly endeavors.

    The speaker’s utter shame at having to suffer “pity” from his muse or from any other quarter, one would assume, is enough to motivate the talented creative writer to plunge himself deep into his art in order to create his best works that they live eternally on his favorite subjects of love and beauty bathed in truth.

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    Shakespeare Sonnet 112 “Your love and pity doth the impression fill”

    In sonnet 112 “Your love and pity doth the impression fill,” the speaker compares his private relationship with his muse to his relationship with society, as he praises the advantages of his private life.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 112 “Your love and pity doth the impression fill”

    Most writers, in their heart of hearts, are private people who crave solitude in order to think, muse, and craft their chosen art forms.  The Shakespearean speaker of the sonnets demonstrates repeatedly his devotion to seclusion and to the muse, who is the queen of his solitude.  

    Sonnet 112 “Your love and pity doth the impression fill” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence dramatizes the speaker’s unique relationship with his muse; her attention not only motivates his cogitation but also gives him respite from the scars and wounds inflicted by public interaction.  The muse to the Shakespearean sonneteer offers respite in a similar sense that religionists depend upon the Divine Belovèd.

    Sonnet 112 “Your love and pity doth the impression fill”

    Your love and pity doth the impression fill
    Which vulgar scandal stamp’d upon my brow;
    For what care I who calls me well or ill,
    So you o’er-green my bad, my good allow?  
    You are my all-the-world, and I must strive
    To know my shames and praises from your tongue;
    None else to me, nor I to none alive,  
    That my steel’d sense or changes right or wrong.
    In so profound abysm I throw all care
    Of other’s voices, that my adder’s sense
    To critic and to flatterer stopped are.  
    Mark how with my neglect I do dispense:  
      You are so strongly in my purpose bred,
      That all the world besides methinks are dead.

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    Commentary onSonnet 112 “Your love and pity doth the impression fill”

    As the speaker dramatizes the advantages of private life, he compares his privacy with his muse to his relationship with society.

    First Quatrain:  Addressing His Muse

    Your love and pity doth the impression fill
    Which vulgar scandal stamp’d upon my brow;
    For what care I who calls me well or ill,
    So you o’er-green my bad, my good allow?  

    The speaker addresses his muse, asserting to her and seeming to remind her, that she is assuaging the pain that has been inflicted upon him by cruel accusation.  He is dramatizing the accusations hurled at him by claiming that they have cut into his “brow” leaving a gaping hole.  But fortunately, his muse will bandage his wound and fill it as one would fill in a divot.

    The speaker then assures his muse that he does not take to heart what others think of him; he does not “care . . . who calls [him] well or ill.”  He knows that his own worth is not determined by anyone or anything outside of himself.  His own soul, to whom he relates as his muse, can treat any of his trifling trials and tribulations.

    Such independence is vital in pursuing the kind of truth-telling to which this speaker continuously aspires.  He does not remain beholden to the thoughts and criticisms of others.  He knows his own mind, heart, and the extent of his talent, and he has the courage to follow his own path to his own goal.

    Second Quatrain:  His Muse, His World

    You are my all-the-world, and I must strive
    To know my shames and praises from your tongue;
    None else to me, nor I to none alive,  
    That my steel’d sense or changes right or wrong.

    The speaker then imparts to his muse, “You are my all-the-world.”  Because the muse is his world, he can take only the evaluation of himself from her.  No one other than his own heart, mind, and soul can offer “shames and praises,” because no one knows him so well as his muse.  Only his own soul can understand his “steel’d sense.”  The people of society see only his outward garb; they can never know his inner being.

    This profound speaker knows that the outward garb remains changeable in its physical level of existence.  He has transcended that level mentally, and he thus aspires to attain to the level of spiritual reality, where truth, beauty, and love exist eternally, even exponentially.

    Third Quatrain:  Banishing Worry and Care

    In so profound abysm I throw all care
    Of other’s voices, that my adder’s sense
    To critic and to flatterer stopped are.  
    Mark how with my neglect I do dispense:  
      You are so strongly in my purpose bred,
      That all the world besides methinks are dead.

    The speaker portrays his muse as a deep vessel into which he can toss all worry and the taunting sound of “others’ voices.”  By tossing his worries into the musean abyss, he loses his need to respond to critics and flatterers.  

    He knows that neither praise nor blame from others makes him better or worse.  And though the human artist in him may be vulnerable to criticism, he realizes the futility of becoming caught up in its grip.  Therefore, he will always strive to ignore those voices.

    Because of his confidence, courage, and awareness of his own strength, the speaker can vow to his soulful muse that he will continue to toss all dross down that abyss where such travails fall and then vanish.

    The Couplet:  His Muse, His Strength

     You are so strongly in my purpose bred,
      That all the world besides methinks are dead.

    The speaker can dispense with all societal critics and flatterers because his muse remains his best resource for self-criticism, rendering all outside critiques unnecessary.  To this talented, alert, and highly skilled craftsman, social commentary regarding his creations remains moot as though to him the world itself is “dead.”

    This speaker will continue to take his inspiration and instruction directly from his own muse—his heart, mind, and soul.  He has become so sensitive to his own abilities that he can remain certain about his creations, even during the times when he chooses to create dramas that might seem to contradict such certainty.

    Thought Food for Writers

    While writers who share their products with others will always find the need to face their adversaries, they can take a hint from this speaker after they ask themselves certain pertinent questions: 

    1. Do I have the courage of my convictions?  
    2. Do I remain convinced of my own creative abilities?  
    3. Do I side with my muse instead of allowing critics and flatterers to influence me?

    The writer who cannot answer in the affirmative to all of these important questions must keep returning to them as s/he continues to practice the craft of writing.  The answers in full, that is, explanation alongside the yes or no, may change over time.  Thus the maturing writer may keep as a goal the ability to eventually respond with a “yes” to all those questions and really  mean it.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 113 “Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind”

    In Shakespeare sonnet 113 “Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind,” the speaker gives a thorough examination of his obsession with creating poetry in the presence of his divine muse, as he compares his creative mind and his physical eye.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 113 “Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind”

    Sonnet 113 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence finds the speaker again addressing his muse.  He notices that while not directly engaging her during his act of creating and crafting his art, his mind continues to fancy her as he observes nature. He is thus examining the dual nature of the creative spirit in the human mind.  

    The deeply discerning speaker is elucidating the fact that the human soul and the concept of a “muse” are mutual.  The soul, which is eternal and immortal, is also all powerful, as it is a spark of the Divine Creator. 

    The speaker therefore has become aware of the limitless potential of his spiritual element, his muse, and he now is capable of demonstrating that that power moves in all directions of creativity.

    Sonnet 113 “Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind” 

    Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind
    And that which governs me to go about
    Doth part his function and is partly blind,  
    Seems seeing, but effectually is out;
    For it no form delivers to the heart
    Of bird, of flower, or shape, which it doth latch:  
    Of his quick objects hath the mind no part,
    Nor his own vision holds what it doth catch;
    For if it see the rud’st or gentlest sight,
    The most sweet favour or deformed’st creature,
    The mountain or the sea, the day or night,  
    The crow or dove, it shapes them to your feature:
      Incapable of more, replete with you,
      My most true mind thus maketh mine untrue.  

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    Commentary on Sonnet 113 “Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind”

    This talented speaker has an obsession with creating poetry, and the presence of his mystical muse is given a thorough study, as he compares his creative mind and his physical eye.

    First Quatrain: The Power of the Image

    Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind
    And that which governs me to go about
    Doth part his function and is partly blind,
    Seems seeing, but effectually is out;

    The speaker observes that while his eye is not trained directly on his muse, his mind takes up her image still. It affects how he looks at things in his environment. His physical, that is his literal eye, appears to abandon its “function and is partly blind.” He is exaggerating as he claims that his eye cannot function with the same visual ability as it does when he remains in the presence of his muse.

    The speaker then interprets the function of “seeing” as a concept of the mind.  As he is composing his works, he remains so self-aware as a creator that he feels that he is literally capable of seeing with his mind. 

    The act of seeing with the mind, however, cannot be a literal function, but it works quite well figuratively.  But for this obsessed speaker, his act of creating has almost become his only endeavor; therefore, even while he is not literally creating, his mind in the background continues to engage in creative musing.

    Second Quatrain: The Affinity for Framing Nature

    For it no form delivers to the heart
    Of bird, of flower, or shape, which it doth latch:
    Of his quick objects hath the mind no part,
    Nor his own vision holds what it doth catch;

    The objects that the speaker’s physical eye sees, whether it be “bird, of flower, or shape,” do not register “to the heart” as those entities do during his full engagement with the muse.  Merely observing one of nature’s creatures is not enough for this speaker whose affinity is for framing nature in sonnets.  

    This speaker can enjoy his own sense perceptions such as vision only when he is able to amplify them through the lens of his considerable talent. The speaker’s obsession is the constant thread that sews all of the sonnets tightly together.  As perceptive readers have begun to notice, this speaker delves deeply into his own heart, mind, and soul.  

    He is never content to accept the superficial but instead finds that the path to reality remains paved with much deep thinking, delving, and diving for the pearls of wisdom offered by the Universal Reality.  He has made it his mission to touch that Reality and report his findings to the best of his considerable ability.

    Third Quatrain: Muse is All

    For if it see the rud’st or gentlest sight,
    The most sweet favour or deformed’st creature,
    The mountain or the sea, the day or night,
    The crow or dove, it shapes them to your feature:

    When the speaker observes anything excerpted from the pairs of opposites that comprise the physical level of being, his mind automatically imposes mystical muse-like qualities upon those natural features.  

    This practice demonstrates the intense relationship between the speaker and his eternal energy, his muse. The muse is everything to the speaker, and he perceives the muse in everything. He demonstrates the qualities of a devotee of pantheism in his art.

    The speaker’s deeply spiritual striving has resulted in his ability to perceive the universal presence of the Great Spirit (God) that dominates even as it creates the Cosmic Reality.  His own observation and practice through writing has led him to the profound understanding of both language and the way the world works.  

    That understanding furthermore bestows on this exceptional scribbler the acclaimed title of “The Bard,” who will in future become a force for the world of both the literary and the non-literary with which to reckon.

    The Couplet: Appreciation for the Muse

    Incapable of more, replete with you,
    My most true mind thus maketh mine untrue.

    Because the speaker deems himself “incapable” of anything without the muse, he appreciates her all the more. He feels completed by the magnitude of the muse’s omnipresence. His muse always remains “[his] most true mind”; thus, his ordinary mind is a less capable entity and therefore “untrue.” 

    Because the muse resides in the mystical realm of existence along with the soul, this speaker has taken on or become united with his omniscient soul because of his dependence and connection with his muse.

    Such dedication to the lofty pursuit of excellence results in finely crafted sonnets and other writings that will fill the future literary world with its masterpieces.  This Bard’s deep comprehension along with his adherence to basic principles will keep him in good stead along his path to creating a masterfully tuned canon of poetic dramas and comedies in his plays as well as in his perfectly pitched sonnets and other poems.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 114 “Or whether doth my mind, being crown’d with you”

    The speaker in sonnet 114 “Or whether doth my mind, being crown’d with you” again dramatizes an aspect of the struggle between mind and sense to determine the genuine.  His interest in the real vs the fake keeps him alert as he journeys down his path to creating beautiful and useful poetic art.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 114 “Or whether doth my mind, being crown’d with you”

    Sonnet 114 “Or whether doth my mind, being crown’d with you” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence continues its thought from sonnet 113.   Addressing his muse, the speaker asks two questions in the first and second quatrains.  

    The speaker is once again weighing options to determine the better path.  He is engaged in a struggle to determine the genuine from the fake.  He knows that the mind is easily tricked by the eye and the ear.  This conundrum appears to be only a beginning of a much larger inquiry into truth.

    The speaker of the Shakespeare sonnets reveals that he is on a spiritual journey, and he tries to use all of his talent and every poetic tool in his toolkit to create his journey for posterity. He is thus aware that he must always pursue the genuine and forsake the fake. 

    He knows that the mind can be a tricky friend, as it desires to accept only what it wants.  The speaker wants his mind to sharpen beyond the point of easy acceptance for he knows that discernment is the way to true art.

    Sonnet 114 “Or whether doth my mind, being crown’d with you”

    Or whether doth my mind, being crown’d with you
    Drink up the monarch’s plague, this flattery?
    Or whether shall I say, mine eye saith true,
    And that your love taught it this alchymy,
    To make of monsters and things indigest
    Such cherubins as your sweet self resemble,
    Creating every bad a perfect best,
    As fast as objects to his beams assemble?
    O! ’tis the first, ’tis flattery in my seeing,
    And my great mind most kingly drinks it up:
    Mine eye well knows what with his gust is ’greeing,
    And to his palate doth prepare the cup:
      If it be poison’d, ’tis the lesser sin
      That mine eye loves it and doth first begin.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 114 “Or whether doth my mind, being crown’d with you”

    The speaker is continuing his thought from sonnet 113, and in sonnet 114 he again is dramatizing an aspect of this struggle between the mind and the senses.

    First Quatrain:  The Perfidy of Flattery

    Or whether doth my mind, being crown’d with you
    Drink up the monarch’s plague, this flattery?
    Or whether shall I say, mine eye saith true,
    And that your love taught it this alchymy,

    The speaker’s first question poses the possibility that because he is blessed with an able muse, he might be susceptible to flattery, which he calls “the monarch’s plague.”  A king, and thus any person holding a lofty societal position, always has people looking for favors, and those seekers are prone to say kind things about the king simply to win those favors. 

    The artist who gains some critical attention during his own lifetime has to guard against useless criticism.  While some critics will be unfairly harsh, others who aspire to their own notoriety may offer false compliments to the artist.  

    The artist must be aware of both useless poseurs as he practices his art for genuine purposes.  The speaker then begins his second question, which is completed in the second quatrain.

    Second Quatrain:  Senses of Belief

    To make of monsters and things indigest
    Such cherubins as your sweet self resemble,
    Creating every bad a perfect best,
    As fast as objects to his beams assemble?

    The speaker’s second question asks whether he should believe whatever he sees and hears.  The muse has taught his mind about “this alchymy” that turns “monsters” into angels, and the muse, of course, resembles the angels.  He wonders if, because his own talent is able to turn all bad into “a perfect best,” that makes it so.  

    The speaker has been calculating these thoughts, weighing the possibilities, and by verbalizing them and dramatizing them in his sonnets, he thinks he may be able to make decisions.  This speaker is constantly thinking and rethinking his position in certain areas.  

    While he remain confident in his own talent, this capable speaker also knows he must guard against accepting flattery and fakery, and his senses of belief must remain sharp as he aspires to deeper wisdom.

    Third Quatrain:  Dangerous Flattery

    O! ’tis the first, ’tis flattery in my seeing,
    And my great mind most kingly drinks it up:
    Mine eye well knows what with his gust is ’greeing,
    And to his palate doth prepare the cup:

    The speaker then decides that the answer to his question lies in the first possibility:  “’tis flattery in my seeing.”  That he may want to choose to believe nice things said about him even when he knows they are not true simply demonstrates his proclivity to succumbing to sheer flattery.  

    That struggle between the mind and eye is a continuing one:  his mind has to discern what to believe.  When the eye (or ear) wants to accept something as true, the mind must determine the value of what the eye sees and ear hears.  The speaker realizes how tricky the eye/ear can be and how willing the mind often is to allow itself to be fooled.  

    The desire to accept ideas that affirm one’s worth must constantly be probed in order to determine if the criticism is mere flattery or if it has some merit.  This speaker knows that he is struggling for the positive in life that includes beauty, love, and truth, but he also remains aware that he can be susceptible to wolves in sheep’s clothing.

    The Couplet:  Soul Awareness

      If it be poison’d, ’tis the lesser sin
      That mine eye loves it and doth first begin.

    If the eye/ear at first accept something that may “be poison’d,” that is “the lesser sin” from what the mind will do when it accepts the poison as potion.  Information first comes to the mind through the senses; thus the pleasantry striking the senses initiates the thought and feeling with which the mind must contend.

    It is because of this series of events that the speaker knows he must not let is guard down in accepting what he first finds to be pleasant.  His goal of creation pure and truthful poetry keeps him ever aware that he must think deeply about all profound subjects, and no subject is more profound that the realization of his own soul.

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    Shakespeare Sonnet 115 “Those lines that I before have writ do lie”

    Addressing his poem, the speaker of sonnet 15 “Those lines that I before have writ do lie” is striving to scrutinize and plumb, through dramatization, the depth of his genuine affection for his art.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 115 “Those lines that I before have writ do lie”

    As the speaker addresses his sonnet 115 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, he is  dramatizing the results of his thinking.  He attempts to determine how deep runs his love of his art.  He has proven many times that he respects the great talent he possesses, and he remains humble enough to share his success with his muse.

    But still the speaker knows that he is not in perfect awareness of his deep soul qualities, and he intuits that by questioning and reasoning he may be able to ascertain all that he yearns to know and to understand about his deepest wishes and desires.

    Sonnet 115 “Those lines that I before have writ do lie”

    Those lines that I before have writ do lie
    Even those that said I could not love you dearer:
    Yet then my judgment knew no reason why
    My most full flame should afterwards burn clearer.
    But reckoning Time, whose million’d accidents
    Creep in ’twixt vows, and change decrees of kings,
    Tan sacred beauty, blunt the sharp’st intents,
    Divert strong minds to the course of altering things;  
    Alas! why, fearing of Time’s tyranny,  
    Might I not then say, ‘Now I love you best,’
    When I was certain o’er incertainty,  
    Crowning the present, doubting of the rest?
      Love is a babe; then might I not say so,  
      To give full growth to that which still doth grow?

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    Commentary on Sonnet 115 “Those lines that I before have writ do lie”

    Addressing his poem, the speaker of sonnet 15 offers a dramatization of his thinking regarding the depth of his genuine affection for his art.

    First Quatrain:   Attempting to Introspect

    Those lines that I before have writ do lie
    Even those that said I could not love you dearer:
    Yet then my judgment knew no reason why
    My most full flame should afterwards burn clearer.

    In the opening quatrain of sonnet 115, the speaker asserts that until now he has not been able to correctly evaluate his love for his art; he even suggests that what he wrote heretofore regarding the subject has been prevarication. 

    The speaker also insists that he did not comprehend “why / My most full flame should afterwards burn clearer.”  Earlier in his life, he did not understand that later, after he had garnered much more life experience, he would begin to understand the true nature of his feelings and be able to better express them.

    Second Quatrain:  Accidental Knowledge

    But reckoning Time, whose million’d accidents
    Creep in ’twixt vows, and change decrees of kings,
    Tan sacred beauty, blunt the sharp’st intents,
    Divert strong minds to the course of altering things;

    The speaker then catalogues a selection of the occurrences, eventuated by “Time,” that can change a person’s ways of thinking about things in his life.  He labels time “reckoning Time” as if time is a calculating person who allows “million[s of] accidents” and also permits even the “decrees of kings” to change.   

    This “reckoning Time” also allows “sacred beauty” to be altered, while it makes dull even the “sharp’st intents.”  Time as a reckoner also has the power to “divert strong minds” as it changes all things.  The speaker is implying that he himself has been affected by all of time’s change-producing abilities.

    Third Quatrain:   Holding onto Truth

    Alas! why, fearing of Time’s tyranny,  
    Might I not then say, ‘Now I love you best,’
    When I was certain o’er incertainty,  
    Crowning the present, doubting of the rest?

    Instead of asserting any claims about events that have motivated his life through his observations about “reckoning Time,” the speaker suggests a complex question; he is wondering why, even knowing about and “fearing Time’s tyranny,” he remains unable to say simply, “Now I love you best.”

    The speaker does remain convinced that the statement holds truth; thus, he assumes that he should be capable of making this remark without having to know all future events, thoughts, and feelings that might plague him.  But his remark offers such a bald assertion that it does not seem to capture completely all he truly experiences.

    The Couplet:   The Delicacy of Love

    Love is a babe; then might I not say so,  
      To give full growth to that which still doth grow?

    The speaker therefore invents a metaphor, “Love is a babe.”  By creating the image of his feeling as still an infant, he gives his feeling room to grow.  He believes that his love for poetry cannot be encompassed by the simple statement, “Now I love you best”; such a statement is not only too simple, but it also limits love to a spot in the present. 

    The speaker insists that his love should remain a growing thing and not be limited to present time.  By metaphorically comparing his love for his art to an infant, he asserts that his love will remain capable of further maturation.   

    However, the speaker does not merely frame this idea as a statement; he offers it as a question, “then might I not say so, / To give full growth to that which still doth grow?”  By asserting such a bold claim as a question, he adds still further emphasis to his affection.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 116 “Let me not to the marriage of true minds”

    In sonnet 116 “Let me not to the marriage of true minds,” the speaker dramatizes the nature of love, not lust or ordinary affection, but the abiding love that he declares is the “marriage of true minds” that time’s fickleness cannot destroy.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 116 “Let me not to the marriage of true minds”

    The speaker in sonnet 116 “Let me not to the marriage of true minds” is offering a definitive description of the nature of love—not physical lust nor even the casual attraction that so often masquerades as love, only later to break and fall apart.   This careful speaker dramatizes the nature of love as he specifies that nature in three qualities:  “the marriage of true minds,” “an ever-fixed mark,” and “not “Time’s fool.”  

    The speaker devotes a quatrain to each quality, and then makes an indisputable conclusion in the couplet:  if he can be proven wrong in his description of love, then no one ever did any writing and also no one ever loved.  Thus, he puts an end to any rebuttal that might even attempt to prove him wrong.

    Sonnet 116 “Let me not to the marriage of true minds” is one of the Shakespearean sonnets that is most anthologized.  Other oft-anthologized Shakespeare sonnets include sonnet 18 “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” and sonnet 29 “When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes.”

    Sonnet 116 “Let me not to the marriage of true minds”

    Let me not to the marriage of true minds  
    Admit impediments. Love is not love  
    Which alters when it alteration finds,
    Or bends with the remover to remove:
    O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,
    That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
    It is the star to every wandering bark,  
    Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
    Love ’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks  
    Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
    Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,  
    But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
    If this be error, and upon me prov’d,
    I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.

     
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    Commentary on Sonnet 116 “Let me not to the marriage of true minds”

    In sonnet 116, the speaker is dramatizing the nature of love, not lust or ordinary affection, but the abiding love that he declares is the “marriage of true minds,” which time’s fickleness cannot destroy.

    First Quatrain:  Biblical Injunction

    Let me not to the marriage of true minds
    Admit impediments. Love is not love
    Which alters when it alteration finds,  
    Or bends with the remover to remove:

    Alluding to the biblical injunction, “What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder” (KJV Matthew 19:6), the speaker describes the true nature of love.  Thus paraphrasing that injunction as admitting impediments to the “marriage of true minds,” he declares that he would never attempt to do such.  

    The speaker then explains his reasoning:  love, in fact, cannot be defiled, for it is always steadfast and enduring.  No one can change true love’s nature, not even if it is surmised that a reason exists to do so.

    True love cannot be bent and reshaped; it cannot be removed.  The speaker is insisting on the constancy of love; thus he employs a polyptotonic repetition device as a poetic tool to reinforce his claims: “Love is not love,” “alters when it alteration finds,” and “bends with the remover to remove.”  

    By repeating these key words, the speaker makes his meaning concretely clear.  Repetition is always the best teaching tool as well as the best tool with which to reinforce an argument in the minds of listeners.

    Second Quatrain:  True Love

    O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,
    That looks on tempests and is never shaken;  
    It is the star to every wandering bark,  
    Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken

    Continuing with his description of true love, the speaker now moves on to his second quality attributed to that description and definition.  He thus metaphorically likens “love” to the polestar of the North, which remains, “an ever-fixed mark,” serving to guide ships on their voyages across the ocean.

    Even when storms whip up and toss the ships with violent winds and rains, the polestar remains ever constant, ever guiding the ship’s direction.  Love then serves as such a polestar; despite the trials and tribulations that confront the beleaguered minds, true love remains to guide those dear hearts out of the storms of life on this planet.    As the North Star guides ships, love guides the hearts and minds of those who truly love. 

    While the distance of the polestar from the earth may be calculated, its value to humankind in remaining a steady force cannot be plumbed. Thus it is with love, its value cannot be estimated because it remains a dynamic force and always for the good of the those who love.

    The great spiritual leader and “Father of yoga in the West,” Paramahansa Yogananda, has averred that the goal of humanity, the goal of each soul is to become so in love with the Divine Creator that the strength of the soul will allow it to “stand unshaken midst the crash of breaking worlds.” 

    That strength attaches to the ultimate nature of the love that the speaker in sonnet 116 is describing because love provides the ability for each soul to unite with its Divine Belovèd, it own Divine Creator.  

    And it is only that union that permits the soul to remain standing as worlds around it come crashing down; an example of a “breaking worlds” is the bombardment of buildings and infrastructure surrounding the populace, as is evident in all the wars the people of Earth have experienced.

    Third Quatrain:   Love and Time

    Love ’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
    Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
    Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
    But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

    Although “rosy lips and cheeks” may be labeled “Time’s fool,” love cannot be so labeled.  Time will destroy the youthful beauty of those physical characteristics, but against love Time has no power.  

    The speaker has already demonstrated that love cannot be “alter[ed]” in “hours and weeks”—or even years and decades for that matter—because love continues to ply its force until the world is taken back into the bosom of its Creator.

    The speaker is dramatically and metaphorically likening love to the power of the Creator of the Cosmos.  Love is the driving force, the dynamic power employed by that Ultimate Creator to fashion all things on earth and in heaven. 

     Thus it could never be otherwise that that divine quality could ever change its nature, for its very nature is the natural force that all humanity craves and will continue to crave as long as physical, mental, and spiritual bodies exist in their extant forms.

    The Couplet:   Prove Me a Liar

     If this be error, and upon me prov’d,
      I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.

    The speaker has completed his definitive description of the nature of love.  In the quatrains, he has offered three qualities that love possesses: 


    (1 ) it is “the marriage of true minds,”
    (2)  it remains “an ever-fixed mark,” and
    (3)  it is not “Time’s fool.” 

    Thus  the speaker has argued his stance through drama, through metaphor, and through persuasion. This deeply thinking speaker has become convinced that no argument could ever be brooked against his claims.  

    The speaker, therefore, declaims what at first might seem to be an outrageous assertion: if he can be proven wrong, then no one ever wrote, and no one ever loved. Of course, the speaker knows that any adversary would have to admit the people have written—the speaker himself has just written—and people have loved.  If people has never loved, the concept itself would never have been perceived.

     If anyone would care to continue in an adversarial vain, the speaker might remind them of all the “love stories” that have been composed time immemorial.  The “love story” exemplifies both “writing” and “loving.”  

    Shakespeare Sonnet 117 “Accuse me thus: that I have scanted all

    Addressing his muse in a confrontational tone in sonnet 117 Accuse me thus: that I have scanted all, the speaker, half in jest, begs forgiveness for his trespasses of neglect and carousing with unrecognized minds.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 117 “Accuse me thus: that I have scanted all”

    The speaker in sonnet 117 is once again facing his muse.  Apparently, he has been keeping company with “unknown minds,” and he now must ask for forgiveness.  Such carousing has led to his failing to fulfill his duty to his art.

    Naturally, it would be to his muse that the speaker must apologize and then beg forgiveness; however, the speaker is well aware that his muse is only another name for his own soul.  And he remains well aware that his talent and all creative ability emanate from his soul—that spark of the Divine, informing his being.

    As the speaker often bases his little dramas on an imagined split between himself and his muse/talent, the likelihood arises that the poet has been composing the three themed sections of the sonnet sequence in tandem.  

    He goes off carousing with the “Dark Lady,” takes on a certain amount to lackadaisical guilt, and then comes begging forgiveness from his muse/talent/soul/artist-self.  He possibly even deems the time he is spending trying to convince the “young man” in the “Marriage Sonnets” sequence to marry less well employed, and thus is including that time in his lamenting his wasted hours.

    Sonnet 117 “Accuse me thus: that I have scanted all”

    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 given to time your own dear-purchas’d right;
    That I have hoisted sail to all the winds
    Which should transport me farthest from your sight.  
    Book both my wilfulness and errors down,  
    And on just proof surmise accumulate;
    Bring me within the level of your frown,
    But shoot not at me in your waken’d hate;  
      Since my appeal says I did strive to prove  
      The constancy and virtue of your love.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 117 “Accuse me thus: that I have scanted all”

    The speaker is now addressing his muse, as he often does.  He speaks partly in jest as he feigns begging forgiveness for neglecting his art after having wasted time carousing with minds that do not offer him the necessary challenges he needs. 

    First Quatrain:  Confronting the Muse

    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;  

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 117, the speaker once again is addressing his muse in a confrontational tone.  Yet as he seems to be accosting his muse, he is, in reality, dressing down himself for his failure “upon your dearest love to call.”  Every time this speaker allows himself to put space between himself and his duty to his muse, he feels the necessity of confronting those lapses.  

    As any reader of the sonnets has experienced many times, this speaker’s whole being is so bound up with his writing and creating art that he disdains any time spent that does not in some way contribute to his all consuming passion.

    This speaker reveals time and again that truth, beauty, and love are of greatest importance to him.  He has dedicated himself to crafting a world in which those qualities live and breathe.  

    Thus after each time he finds himself averting his gaze into activities that attend upon mediocre events (and even to people whose motives he deems incompatible with his own), he will be found seeking redemption from his muse-self, not always promising to improve but at least to show that he is aware of his lapse.

    Second Quatrain:  Lamenting Wasted Time

    That I have frequent been with unknown minds,
    And given to time your own dear-purchas’d right;
    That I have hoisted sail to all the winds
    Which should transport me farthest from your sight.

    The obsession continues with this speaker lamenting that he has spent time with “unknown minds,” that is, minds that are foreign to his own soul nature and by extension to that of the muse.  

    Through cavorting with those unknown minds, he has averted his attention away from his true purpose in his own estimation.  When he “transport[s] [himself] farthest from [her] sight,” he abandons his most sacred duties and suffers deeply the anguish of guilt.

    The speaker in this regard then seeks out his muse as a religious devotee would seek out a spiritual leader for advice or confession.  His muse behaves as his anchor as well as his inspiration; she has the power to absolve his transgressions, but this power comes solely through the speaker/artist’s ability to create his salvation in art.  The complexity of his relationship with his muse remains a unique achievement with this speaker/poet.

    When the speaker of this themed section of sonnets, “The Muse Sonnets,” which focus on his writing, decries having cavorted with those “unknown minds,” it is likely he has in mind the central figure of the next themed section of sonnets focusing on the “Dark Lady.”   

    She certainly qualifies as an “unknown” or incompatible mind—one that would likely be deemed a waste of his time, as well as a waste of his bodily fluids.  It is also therefore likely that the poet was composing this section of poems at the same time he was composing the “Dark Lady” section.  With that contemporaneous activity in mind, the two sets of sonnets inform each other quite well.

    Third Quatrain:   Evidence of Misdeeds

    Book both my wilfulness and errors down,  
    And on just proof surmise accumulate;
    Bring me within the level of your frown,
    But shoot not at me in your waken’d hate;  

    As the speaker continues his little drama regarding his lapses and errors, he uplifts the nature and value of his muse, contrasting her importance with all other engagements.   He will allow himself the space to generate his dramas in order to improve both his ability to concentrate and focus on each issue.  

    That he will always dedicate himself to the chosen qualities of art for the sake of truth and beauty becomes a fixture and guiding element determining the special status of each sonnet’s dramatic features.

    Exaggerating his guilt, the speaker begs his muse to write down his errors and his proclivities for them; then, she may offer evidence of his misdeeds, and he admits that they are substantial.  He then commands her only to frown at him but not to hate him.  Using legalese to court the muse’s favor, he continues his plea in the couplet.

    The Couplet:  The Reality of Virtuousness

     Since my appeal says I did strive to prove  
      The constancy and virtue of your love.

    The speaker declares that he deserves clemency because he always attempts to follow the virtuous path of love as provided so generously by his beloved muse.  He deems his faithfulness, as he returns to her again and again, makes him worthy of her appreciative forgiveness.  He considers his relation with his muse-talent to remain a two-way street. 

    While he knows his sins and failures are significant and many, he still keeps within his mental grasp the reality of his virtuous muse.  And he is convinced that his relationship with his muse can, in fact, assist in his transcendence of all errors, despite their gravity and number.

    As the speaker is cleverly laying out in abundance his folly and the gravity of his ability to exhibit depravity of behavior in the “Dark Lady” sequence, he straddles the line between good and evil in his little dramas, suggesting full well that he will eventually come squarely down on the side that leads him in his desired direction to his ultimate goal of truth and beauty.

    A Note on the Nine Muses

    The Greek epic poet Hesiod names and describes nine Muses in The Theogony:

    1. Thalia:  Comedy, depicted with theatrical  mask—Cheerful One
    2. Urania:  Astronomy, holds a globe—Heavenly Persona
    3. Melpomene: Tragedy, in theatrical mask—One Who Sings
    4. Polyhymnia: sacred poetry, hymns, wearing a veil—Sacred Singer
    5. Erato: Lyric Poetry, playing a lyre—Loveliness
    6. Calliope:  Epic Poetry, depicted with a writing tablet—Voice of Beauty
    7. Clio:  History, depicted with a scroll— Proclaimer
    8. Euterpe:  Flute-playing, depicted with a flute—Pleasing One
    9. Terpsichore: Dance, depicted dancing, playing a lyre—Delighted by Dance

    From these original creativity inspirers, writers, poets, musicians, and other artists have all built a veritable encyclopedia of “muses.”  Each artist who recognizes such an inspiration in their creative endeavor employs a unique muse.  The importance of gaining information and knowledge about the notion of these historical and mythological presences merely assists the mind and heart in plumbing the depths for truth and beauty. 

    If the ancients had such concepts and took the time and effort to delineate them, then modern day, indeed, all current notions of “inspiration” are given a boost of authenticity.  The act of creativity is not merely a technological event of mixing words, or paint, or clay, or music notes.  The mixings must come from an important place in the soul, else it has little value for the creator/artist or the audience.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 118 “Like as, to make our appetites more keen”

    The speaker in sonnet 118 “Like as, to make our appetites more keen” confesses to his muse that he has learned that the use of artificial stimuli to retain his ardor for writing is not effective. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 118 “Like as, to make our appetites more keen”

    Sonnet 118 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence finds the speaker musing on odd bits of thought.  Although he has become aware that using artificial stimulation cannot enhance his writing ability, he continues to muse on the notion that perhaps some outside potion might help boost his ardor.

    The speaker, as most artists do from time to time, is experiencing a bit of burn out or low inspiration.  But he continues to respect his ability, and he knows he must do only what will keep him productive. 

    As he contemplates the nature of health, he returns to the notion that remaining faithful to his muse will assist him in retaining his own health, physically, mentally, and creatively.

    Sonnet 118 “Like as, to make our appetites more keen”

    Like as, to make our appetites more keen,
    With eager compounds we our palate urge;
    As, to prevent our maladies unseen,
    We sicken to shun sickness when we purge;
    Even so, being full of your ne’er-cloying sweetness,
    To bitter sauces did I frame my feeding;
    And, sick of welfare, found a kind of meetness
    To be diseased, ere that there was true needing.
    Thus policy in love, to anticipate
    The ills that were not, grew to faults assured,
    And brought to medicine a healthful state
    Which, rank of goodness, would by ill be cured;
       But thence I learn and find the lesson true,
       Drugs poison him that so fell sick of you.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 118 “Like as, to make our appetites more keen”

    The speaker is ruminating on the issue of keeping his creative spirit alive and well functioning.  As he does so, he contemplates the efficacy of artificial stimulation, ultimately rejecting it as unhelpful. 

    First Quatrain:  Comparison of Sorts

    Like as, to make our appetites more keen,
    With eager compounds we our palate urge;
    As, to prevent our maladies unseen,
    We sicken to shun sickness when we purge;

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 118, the speaker compares his ability to retain his passion and enthusiasm for writing and therefore his ability to remain centered in his muse to the consumption of appetizers before meals and to implementation of preventative medicines.  

    Addressing his muse, he tells her that in order to retain his interest and craving, he commits certain acts, or exercises certain mental muscles, and he avers that those activities resemble those other physical activities.  

    Second Quatrain:  Metaphoric Medicine

    Even so, being full of your ne’er-cloying sweetness,
    To bitter sauces did I frame my feeding;
    And, sick of welfare, found a kind of meetness
    To be diseased, ere that there was true needing.

    The speaker then reports that when he becomes satiated with the “ne’er-cloying sweetness” of the muse, he finds he must use an appetizer in order to whet his satiated appetite in order to take in more of the muse’s inspiration.  But he also admits that those appetizers are “bitter sauces,” not like the sweetness of his muse.

    On the physical plane of existence, pairs of opposites rule:  day/night, health/sickness, sweet/bitter, hot/cold, etc.   The speaker is showing that he is quite human; he cannot appreciate all sweetness all of the time nor can he tolerate perfect health without experiencing sickness.  Especially for his writer persona, he must experience both qualities of the pairs of opposites.  

    Thus the speaker reports that after finding himself “sick of welfare,” that is, faring well or being healthy all the time, he discovered that there was necessity “to be diseased.”   However, he did not actually do anything to bring on true illness, he only used a preventative medicine, which makes the patient ill in order to prevent a worse illness, for example, taking a vaccine.  

    The patient may experience a slight fever or other symptoms, but these are far preferable to having the disease itself, or so the layman is led to believe. Even so, the speaker is using all this as a metaphor.  He does not mean that he took a physical medicine; he is referring only to a way of thinking; therefore, the medicine to which he refers is mental, his thinking process, not physical, not actually swallowing medicine.

    Third Quatrain:  Tricking the Creative Spirit

    Thus policy in love, to anticipate
    The ills that were not, grew to faults assured,
    And brought to medicine a healthful state
    Which, rank of goodness, would by ill be cured;

    The speaker then applies his metaphor of taking a food appetizer and preventive medical remedy to the “policy in love.”  He mentally “anticipated” the “ills that were not,” but in doing so, he did experience some flaws in his thinking, but luckily, the preventive medicine worked and “brought to medicine a healthful state.”  

    If the speaker had, in fact, become ill, that is, sick of his muse to the point of abandoning her, he knows his writing ability would end.  All artists must use techniques to keep themselves interested in their art so that they will continue to ply it, or they will lose their skill if they abandon it even for a short period.

    The Couplet:  Artificial Stimuli Weaken instead of Strengthen Creativity

    But thence I learn and find the lesson true,
    Drugs poison him that so fell sick of you.

    The speaker then concludes that he has learned his lesson:  artificial stimuli are not the answer; they actually weaken the craving.  His passion must be prompted by his deep spiritual urging because “drugs poison him that so fell sick of you.”   By allowing himself to feel satiated of the very inspiration that keeps him healthy, he sickens himself, and no outside remedy can help him.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 119 “What potions have I drunk of Siren tears”

    Sonnet 119 “What potions have I drunk of Siren tears”finds the speaker again examining and dramatizing his “wretched errors,” and they are errors that his “heart committed” but from which he learns a valuable lesson.  

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 119

    The speaker in sonnet 119 does not directly address his muse but instead is lamenting to himself his faults and griefs, while intending that the muse overhear his confession.

    Sonnet 119 “What potions have I drunk of Siren tears”

    What potions have I drunk of Siren tears,
    Distilled from limbecks foul as hell within,
    Applying fears to hopes, and hopes to fears,
    Still losing when I saw myself to win!
    What wretched errors hath my heart committed,
    Whilst it hath thought itself so blessed never!
    How have mine eyes out of their spheres been fitted,
    In the distraction of this madding fever!
    O benefit of ill! now I find true
    That better is by evil still made better;
    And ruined love, when it is built anew,
    Grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater.
    So I return rebuked to my content,
    And gain by ill thrice more than I have spent.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 119 “What potions have I drunk of Siren tears”

    In sonnet 119 “What potions have I drunk of Siren tears,” the speaker is again ruminating on the “wretched errors,” which his “heart committed” but from which he learns a valuable lesson.  

    First Quatrain:  Failed Thought as a Concoction

    What potions have I drunk of Siren tears,
    Distilled from limbecks foul as hell within,
    Applying fears to hopes, and hopes to fears,
    Still losing when I saw myself to win!

    The reader will note that both the first and second quatrains are exclamatory questions, something like the outburst, “What is wrong with me!”  He exclaims that he has been a loser in times when he thought he would win, and he blames the losing outcome on having “drunk of Siren tears / Distill’d from limbecks foul as hell within.”  

    The speaker is metaphorically describing his inner failure of thought as a concoction that an alchemical sorcerer would manufacture in attempting to turn a base metal into gold.  The speaker, of course, is referring to his thoughts and feelings:  he has tried to turn “fears to hopes” and “hopes to fears.”  Yet for all his inner turmoil, he has only become bogged down in error.

    Second Quatrain:  Sidetracked by Gross Error

    What wretched errors hath my heart committed,
    Whilst it hath thought itself so blessed never!
    How have mine eyes out of their spheres been fitted,
    In the distraction of this madding fever!

    The “wretched errors” of his heart allowed him to overlook that well-known fact that he has always been “blessed.”  He has allowed himself to lose his intuition while engaging in superficiality.  

    This whorl of flaws seemed to cause “[his] eyes out of their spheres to be fitted,” that is, he has misplaced vision.  He has allowed himself to become sidetracked by a “madding fever.” Out of gross error, he has looked in the wrong places for the inspiration that he needs to complete his work.

    Just as Emily Dickinson averred that the things of the world “hold so,” the Shakespearean speaker is finding those world-holding situations quite troubling.  That he must face his issues he knows; therefore, he complains as he pinpoints his errors and contemplates what he must do about them.

    Third Quatrain: Worldly Pairs of Opposites

    O benefit of ill! now I find true
    That better is by evil still made better;
    And ruined love, when it is built anew,
    Grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater.

    The third quatrain finds the speaker exclaiming again, but this time his exclamation answers his earlier exclamatory questions.  He discovers that the illness caused by his earlier errors is actually helpful, and he exclaims, “O benefit of ill!”  He understands again that the pairs of opposites that operate on the physical level of existence can, in fact, become valuable teachers.

    The speaker finally understands, “That better is by evil still made better.”  In order to comprehend the good and the true, the artist needs to have the contrast of the bad and the false, which is evil.  The speaker continues his analogy by likening the comparison to love:  “ruin’d love, when it is built anew, / Grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater.” 

    The Couplet:  Gaining Through Adversity

    So I return rebuked to my content,
    And gain by ill thrice more than I have spent.

    The speaker then avers that after he comes back to his “content” which is his own level of spiritual understanding and his own conscience, he realizes how much he has gained.  His own sphere of activity, which includes his muse, offers him at least three times the enjoyment of other worldly endeavors. 

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    Shakespeare Sonnet 120 “That you were once unkind befriends me now”

    In sonnet 120 “That you were once unkind befriends me now,” the speaker returns to confronting the muse for mistreating him, but he has found a way to employ that maltreatment for the better. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 120 “That you were once unkind befriends me now”

    Sonnet 120 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence again finds the poet/speaker conversing with his muse.  The reader has observed the various stances the speaker has taken over the course of the sonnet sequence, from blaming the muse for his own flaws to accepting the blame himself, and even sharing the blame.  

    No matter what the grievance, the speaker remains capable of creating a proper drama from it.  His courageous and constant confidence in his own talent for creativity allows him the space to fling his creations forward in a brave way.

    Sonnet 120 “That you were once unkind befriends me now”

    That you were once unkind befriends me now,
    And for that sorrow, which I then did feel,
    Needs must I under my transgression bow,
    Unless my nerves were brass or hammer’d steel.
    For if you were by my unkindness shaken,
    As I by yours, you’ve passed a hell of time;
    And I, a tyrant, have no leisure taken
    To weigh how once I suffered in your crime.
    O! that our night of woe might have remembered
    My deepest sense, how hard true sorrow hits,
    And soon to you, as you to me, then tendered
    The humble salve, which wounded bosoms fits!
    But that your trespass now becomes a fee;
    Mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom me.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 120 “That you were once unkind befriends me now”

    The speaker is once again confronting his muse for treating him poorly, but he has discovered a method for employing that mistreatment for his better good, as he virtually always does.

    First Quatrain:  Advantages of Unkindness

    That you were once unkind befriends me now,
    And for that sorrow, which I then did feel,
    Needs must I under my transgression bow,
    Unless my nerves were brass or hammer’d steel.

    The speaker advises his muse that the earlier grievance perpetrated by her now has resulted in their friendship becoming even deeper, and because of this deep attachment, he is now able to perceive an advantage to that earlier unkindness.  

    He confesses that he endured all that pain as a result of the muse’s mistreatment of him, and yet he can aver that despite his own offenses, which he was required to acknowledge, the fact remains that it is quite natural for him to suffer.  After all he is a human being, not a being made of steel.  Being only human, he possesses normal physical organs that mental anguish may brunt.

    By clearly stating his awareness of the trial and tribulations that an incarnated human being must suffer, the speaker demonstrates the profound nature of his learning and his searching for answers that confront each human psyche.   With such correct understanding, he is laying the foundation for better behavior, even proper behavior in the future.

    Second Quatrain:  Empathy for the Muse

    For if you were by my unkindness shaken,
    As I by yours, you’ve passed a hell of time;
    And I, a tyrant, have no leisure taken
    To weigh how once I suffered in your crime.

    The speaker then offers a conjecture regarding the reciprocal suffering of the muse.  He suspects that if she felt as much sorrow as he did, then he knows by comparison that she also suffered extremely during the calamitous period of time. His own suffering allows him to empathize with the suffering of his muse.

    Remembering that the muse and the speaker are in reality the same, the reader understands that the speaker again is dramatizing his situation as if he were a split personality.  He must make this split in order to take a separate stance from the muse and thus be able to portray his feelings.

    The speaker then reports that he has never backed down from complaining about any ill-treatment he has undergone at the hands of the sometimes too quiet muse.  He feels no guilt in labeling those down times her offenses.  

    He feels the crime of omission is as sure as the crime of commission.  He wants his muse to know that he is aware of their closeness as well as the fact that his ability to split them when needed remains a vital part of making creative art.

    Third Quatrain:  Long Night of Sorrow

    O! that our night of woe might have remembered
    My deepest sense, how hard true sorrow hits,
    And soon to you, as you to me, then tendered
    The humble salve, which wounded bosoms fits!

    The speaker then offers a full-throated exclamation: he hopes that that night of pain and sorrow at feeling abandoned will remain with him, that he will continue to feel it in his deepest heart.  

    And as he recalls how painful the abandonment felt to him, he realizes that she must also have suffered from the separation. He makes it clear that he knows that the painful night not only belongs to him but also to his muse.

    Thus, the speaker again empathizes with his muse, knowing that the sorrow is mutually shared.  But he then suggests that they both finally partake curative medicine that soothes and remedies the pain for both parties.   The speaker reveals that his concerns for his soul aware remain threefold: for himself, for his muse, and for their relationship.

    The Couplet:  Free-Flowing Forgiveness

    But that your trespass now becomes a fee;
    Mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom me.

    The speaker then reminds the muse that her transgression has allowed him the freedom to transgress against her.  But mutual heartache is not the better path, so he refashions the agreement to forgiveness flowing both ways:  his error he will ransom for her error, and she will do the same for him.

    The speaker thus concludes that both parties will thus be assuaged.  The freedom that the speaker takes for himself is the same freedom that the muse possesses.  Inspiration must flow both ways so that each party continually feeds the other.   They may both continue the free flow of inspiration that keeps them ever moving on their path for achieving creative endeavors.  

    Shakespeare Sonnet 121 “’Tis better to be vile than vile esteem’d” 

    In sonnet 121 “’Tis better to be vile than vile esteem’d,” the speaker soliloquizes about the damage caused by gossiping critics who attempt to destroy what they do not understand. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 121 “’Tis better to be vile than vile esteem’d”

    The speaker in sonnet 121 “’Tis better to be vile than vile esteem’d” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence sets forth an announcement of principle; he is not addressing anyone in particular, even though he poses questions.  The sonnet functions as a soliloquy in a play would do.

    The writer of the Shakespearean canon remains most famous for his plays both comedies as well as tragedies, including Hamlet, Macbeth, Romeo and Juliet, King Lear, Julius Caesar, and at least thirty more.  Hamlet alone features a whopping seven of the most famous soliloquies in the history of the literary arts.

    Sonnet 121 “’Tis better to be vile than vile esteem’d”

    ‘Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed,
    When not to be receives reproach of being;
    And the just pleasure lost, which is so deemed
    Not by our feeling, but by others’ seeing:
    For why should others’ false adulterate eyes
    Give salutation to my sportive blood?
    Or on my frailties why are frailer spies,
    Which in their wills count bad what I think good?
    No, I am that I am, and they that level
    At my abuses reckon up their own:
    I may be straight though they themselves be bevel;
    By their rank thoughts, my deeds must not be shown;
    Unless this general evil they maintain,
    All men are bad and in their badness reign.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 121 “’Tis better to be vile than vile esteem’d”

    In sonnet 121 “’Tis better to be vile than vile esteem’d,” the speaker soliloquizes about the damage caused by gossiping critics who attempt to destroy what they have not bothered to make the effort to understand.

    First Quatrain:  On Being vs Seeming Bad

    ‘Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed,
    When not to be receives reproach of being;
    And the just pleasure lost, which is so deemed
    Not by our feeling, but by others’ seeing:

    The speaker asserts his idea that it is better to actually be a bad person than to be merely thought to be bad by those who do not really know.  Gossiping busybodies may contend that the target of their gossip is other then he actually is, and then the latter may take it upon himself to alter his behavior to suit the gossipers.

    In which case, the victim of gossip would be allowing himself to be distorted “not by [his own] feeling, but by others’ seeing.”  The speaker disdains such hypocrisy; therefore, he exaggerates the notion that it is better to be “vile than vile esteem’d.” 

    Second Quatrain:  Rhetorical Questions

    For why should others’ false adulterate eyes
    Give salutation to my sportive blood?
    Or on my frailties why are frailer spies,
    Which in their wills count bad what I think good?

    The speaker then poses two rhetorical questions:

    1. Why should those who understand so little about me be thought to possess the ability to judge my feelings and worth? 
    2. Why should those who lack all understanding of moral value be thought to have the capability to judge as not valid what I think is, in fact, true?

    Each question contains its own answer:  

    1. Those who understand so little about me do not possess the ability to judge me in anyway.
    2. Those who lack all understanding of moral value have no business offering their moronic conclusions about what I deem right and good.

    No one should have to modify his/her life according to those who do not see correctly and understand thoroughly.  And “frailer spies” cannot be counted on to validly judge the “frailties” of others.  

    Third Quatrain:  Brave Assertions

    No, I am that I am, and they that level
    At my abuses reckon up their own:
    I may be straight though they themselves be bevel;
    By their rank thoughts, my deeds must not be shown;

    The speaker asserts bravely, “I am that I am,” and those who unjustly criticize him are merely airing their own faults.  They criticize without understanding him and thus demonstrate that they are the ones who are out of step with reality.  

    The gossiping critics diminish their own reputation by trying to dull that of one they do not even understand.  They possess “rank thoughts” that they foist onto the speaker, thus showing their own pettiness, while nothing genuine about their intended target is even addressed.

    The Couplet:  Evil vs Creativity

    Unless this general evil they maintain,
    All men are bad and in their badness reign.

    Such gossiping poseurs who negatively criticize might as well hold that “all men are bad and in their badness reign.”  But it is the “general evil” of the poseurs who possess the reign of badness.  They would destroy creativity in their own evil.  But this speaker exposes their wickedness and blunts their sharp invective.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 122 “Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain”

    In sonnet 122 “Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain,” the speaker addresses the Giver of his gift of poetry, dramatizing the ability of his memory to retain the love and inspiration of the Divine Giver.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 122 “Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain”

    The speaker in Shakespeare sonnet 122 “Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence claims that he does not need to retain tablets or books of his poems to remember the love that has created his career in writing.

    Thus this speaker is challenging himself to de-emphasize the physical presence of his works. Whether they reside in tablets or books, the speaker will never allow any aspect of their being to overcome or overshadow his original promptings, which will forever remain his central interest.

    While poets and writers will always record in books for publication or for their own possession, those artifacts of words cannot become more important than the love that inspired them.

    Sonnet 122 “Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain”

    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 raz’d 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.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 122 “Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain”

    The speaker in sonnet 122 “Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain” is addressing the Giver of his gift of poetry, dramatizing the ability of his memory to retain the love and inspiration of the Divine Giver.

    First Quatrain:  Gift of Poetry Resides in the Brain

    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:

    As the speaker opens his sonnet 122, he announces that his gift for poetry creation, the product of which resides in tablets “full character’d,” is also part of his “brain”; they are retained in his memory.  He will continue to expand his memory’s ability retain the love that inspired his works as long as his soul exists, which means unto eternity. 

    The speaker asserts that the mental impression of his sonnets will be retained in his memory, even without his having the physical copies in his presence.  He does not have to read his own poems to know what motivated them.   He is implying that the love he feels for his muse and writing talent are part of his DNA, that is, so close that he needs only his magnificent memory.

    Second Quatrain:  Mental Capacity Explored

    Or, at the least, so long as brain and heart
    Have faculty by nature to subsist;
    Till each to raz’d oblivion yield his part
    Of thee, thy record never can be miss’d.

    The speaker continues to emphasize his mental capacity, saying that at least he will be able to recall his inspirations as long as his brain continues to function, and he will be able to remember his motivations as long as he is alive on the physical plane.

    The speaker reiterates his claim, and then with a measure of hyperbole, he declaims his ability to keep those memories in his brain and heart as long as obliviousness never cramps his thought-processes. He will never forget his love of his muse as long as he can still think and feel.

    Third Quatrain:  The Irrelevance of Forgetting

    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:

    The speaker then asserts that forgetting is not even relevant when broaching these subjects of his art:  his muse, his talent, the Giver of talent, and Divine Inspiration.  He does not have to worry about keeping a physical account of his love; it would be like constantly having to count fingers or look for the eyeballs in his head.

    Publishing his works and letting them find an audience requires that he be “bold.”  He can let his books be sold without losing what motivated his writing them.   The “tables” of the mind and heart are the ones that accept all the love of the One who give him his talent and life.  That Giver is more important than the paper on which the poems rest.

    The Couplet:  Physical Tokens of Superfluity

    To keep an adjunct to remember thee
    Were to import forgetfulness in me.

    The speaker then avers that the physical tokens of his works are ultimately superfluous, and he suggests that those physical things might actually encourage him to forget, if he lets that happen.  

    Keeping his own books constantly in his presence would imply that he could somehow forget his own love and inspiration, and the speaker has taken great pains to counter that misconception. 

    Shakespeare Sonnet 123 “No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change”

    The speaker in sonnet 123 No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change”again accosts his adversary, Time, dramatizing his faith that his art can outpace Time’s scythe:  Time moves in haste; art evolves with intent. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 123 “No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change”

    In sonnet 123 No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change,” the speaker addresses “Time,” as he has done in many of the sonnets in this sequence.  He spars occasionally with Time, showing how it has no control over the soul, although it disfigures the physical body and for some ravages the mind.

    Sonnet 123 “No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change”

    No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change:
    Thy pyramids built up with newer might
    To me are nothing novel, nothing strange;
    They are but dressings of a former sight.
    Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire
    What thou dost foist upon us that is old;
    And rather make them born to our desire
    Than think that we before have heard them told.
    Thy registers and thee I both defy,
    Not wondering at the present nor the past,
    For thy records and what we see doth lie,
    Made more or less by thy continual haste.
    This I do vow, and this shall ever be;
    I will be true, despite thy scythe and thee.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 123 “No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change”

    Addressing his nemesis, Time, the speaker asserts that time will never be able to count him among its victims.

    First Quatrain:  Change and the Passage of Time

    No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change:
    Thy pyramids built up with newer might
    To me are nothing novel, nothing strange;
    They are but dressings of a former sight. 

    Even though “Time” wants to contend that marvels such as the pyramids were created through its agency, the speaker asserts that these wonders are mere trinkets of a bygone era; this speaker considers such creations not at all out of the ordinary or new.

    The speaker understands that the nature of humankind includes the act of creation, which has no limits.  From the creation of little songs, or sonnets, to the enormous ingenuity that brought forth the pyramids, there exists a constant stream of creativity.  

    The artist’s work does not change with “Time” as other human activity does.  The artist’s creations result from the artist’s self because they are manifestations of the creative soul.  While the physical body and even the mind may come under Time’s sway, the soul does not.  And this truth becomes and remains evidence in the artist’s creations that withstand the test of “Time.” 

    Second Quatrain:  Time and the Linear Motion of Events

    Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire
    What thou dost foist upon us that is old;
    And rather make them born to our desire
    Than think that we before have heard them told.

    The speaker admits that the period of time allotted for each human being’s existence is short, and because human beings live such short lives, they are fascinated by the accomplishments of the past.  The ordinary human mind accepts received knowledge but fails to intuit that the recycling of material reality has allowed earlier generations to have already become aware of that knowledge.

    The speaker demonstrates that humans prefer to accept the linear motion of historical acts as the only progression they can understand, but that same desire does not mask the intensity of the mental anguish such thinking must necessarily engender.

    Third Quatrain:  Rebelling against Time and Its Records

    Thy registers and thee I both defy,
    Not wondering at the present nor the past,
    For thy records and what we see doth lie,
    Made more or less by thy continual haste.

    The speaker, however, rebels against both Time’s “registers” and against Time itself.  He can express this defiance by conflating both present and past in his art.  He makes the bold claim that what Time has recorded is as false as what we think we view with the eye. And those “registers” or records alongside the bias with which the mind looks at them exist because of the constant fast pace in which Time operates.

    The artist, on the other hand, is deliberate, moving slowly in order to accomplish his work of truth, love, and beauty.  Time’s playthings matter little to the artist whose work is motivated by his soul awareness, not by the desire to attract vulgar curiosity.

    The Couplet:  Vow to Remain Faithful to Truth

    This I do vow, and this shall ever be;
    I will be true, despite thy scythe and thee.

    The speaker then makes his vow to his soul, his talent, and his muse that he will remain faithful to truth, and he will adhere to truth, his main interest, regardless of Time’s damaging exploits.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 124 “If my dear love were but the child of state”

    In sonnet 124 “If my dear love were but the child of state,” the speaker dramatizes the nature of his “dear love,” the motivating power guiding his craftsmanship, keeping his creative juices flowing. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 124 “If my dear love were but the child of state”

    In sonnet 124 “If my dear love were but the child of state,” as in many of the sonnets from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker’s love of truth and beauty is consistently his companion. He reveals the love that strengthens his talent and his craft.

    In this drama the speaker compares and contrasts his own soul (“love”) with the situation experienced by a child who remains a ward of the state.  His point is to show that his love is not dependent on outward circumstances.  It was created by the Divine, it continues to live and be guided by the Divine; thus it will remain undefiled by the physical machinations of time.

    Sonnet 124 “If my dear love were but the child of state”

    If my dear love were but the child of state
    It might for Fortune’s bastard be unfather’d,
    As subject to Time’s love or to Time’s hate,
    Weeds among weeds, or flowers with flowers gather’d.
    No, it was builded far from accident;
    It suffers not in smiling pomp, nor falls
    Under the blow of thralled discontent,
    Whereto the inviting time our fashion calls:
    It fears not policy, that heretic,
    Which works on leases of short-number’d hours,
    But all alone stands hugely politic,
    That it nor grows with heat, nor drowns with showers.
    To this I witness call the fools of time,
    Which die for goodness, who have liv’d for crime.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 124 “If my dear love were but the child of state”

    In sonnet 124, the speaker dramatizes the nature of his “dear love,” the motivating soul-power that guides his craftsmanship and keeps his creatively active.  

    First Quatrain:  Exploring the Nature of Love

    If my dear love were but the child of state
    It might for Fortune’s bastard be unfather’d,
    As subject to Time’s love or to Time’s hate,
    Weeds among weeds, or flowers with flowers gather’d.

    Addressing a general audience in sonnet 124, the speaker explores the nature of his love (or his soul) by metaphorically comparing it to an orphan, but the comparison is crafted negatively, claiming that if his love were a mere orphan or “child of state,” it would be not only a “bastard” but left to the vicissitudes of time.

    Time maintains a special place in this speaker’s dramas.  And in this sonnet, he insists that if time had its sway over his love and his talent, his best qualities would be ordinary.  They would come under the control of ordinary love and hate.  Thus they would be like weeds or flowers. 

    Second Quatrain:   Love Divinely Created

    No, it was builded far from accident;
    It suffers not in smiling pomp, nor falls
    Under the blow of thralled discontent,
    Whereto the inviting time our fashion calls:

    But such is not the case with his love, which is deliberately, thus divinely, crafted “far from accident.”  Unlike the poor bastard child of state, fatherless and depending upon societal scraps and passing good will, his love does not suffer from the vicissitudes of good and back luck.

    Because his love is from the Divine, the speaker can insist with certainty that time and its fickle gifts cannot touch his love and his ability to create his life’s works.  The pairs of opposites will continue to work on the physical level of his being, but at his soul level, this speaker knows by intuition that his love will remain vital despite the see-saw effect provided by time.

    Third Quatrain:  The Fickle Policies of the State

    It fears not policy, that heretic,
    Which works on leases of short-number’d hours,
    But all alone stands hugely politic,
    That it nor grows with heat, nor drowns with showers.

    The speaker’s love does not suffer the fears of the state’s actions, and to the character of his love, the policies of the state are often traitorous indignities that usurp the individual in fits and starts.  

    It is necessary to remember that his speaker lived under a monarchy, and the governed had no say in how they were governed.  Thus, references to politics or governing by this speaker reveal a radical gulf between the spiritual and the political.

    Instead of functioning as a part of the obedient crowd, the love, or soul, of this speaker “all alone stands hugely politic,” but it moves in an alternate universe from ordinary politics because it neither “grows with heat, nor drowns with showers.”   His love does not embody the physical but the spiritual, where it is not subject to the ravages of the physical universe and that old nemesis Time.

    The Couplet:  Perfect Balance and Harmony

    To this I witness call the fools of time,
    Which die for goodness, who have liv’d for crime.

    The speaker then testifies as a “witness” against the “fools of time,” who are subject to Time’s vicissitudes, or the pairs of opposites.  His love remains in perfect balance and harmony because it transcends the common lot of humankind.  It cannot be burned by heat, it cannot be drowned by water, and it cannot be forced to suffer the trammels of aging.

    Without this awareness and unity with one’s love, or soul, the angry mob will “die for goodness, who have liv’d for crime.”  The speaker suggests that it is a crime against the soul not to live in it.  It is a crime against one’s individuality to follow blindly the policies of a monarchy without understanding that one’s true life, love, and existence blissfully wait within.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 125 “Were’t aught to me I bore the canopy”

    Again addressing his muse, the speaker in sonnet 125 “Were’t aught to me I bore the canopy” concludes that despite his dedication to poetry creation, all he has to give his muse is his own soul.

    Introduction and Text of Shakespeare Sonnet 125 “Were’t aught to me I bore the canopy”

    Speaking to his muse, the craftsman in sonnet 125 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence concludes that despite his dedication to the composition of poetry, all he has to offer his muse is his own soul power.  The speaker poses two questions then offers his answers.  Again, he is exploring his own talent as it is complemented with his muse.  

    This speaker continues to fashion his little dramas using his technique of questioning as he attempts to explore his inner most-thoughts in order to evaluate their purity.    His goal as he has often stated is to present his art and inform it with beauty, truth, and love.  He never fails to keep those qualities in focus.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 125 “Were’t aught to me I bore the canopy”

    Were’t aught to me I bore the canopy
    With my extern the outward honouring,
    Or laid great bases for eternity,
    Which prove more short than waste or ruining?
    Have I not seen dwellers on form and favour
    Lose all and more by paying too much rent,
    For compound sweet foregoing simple savour
    Pitiful thrivers, in their gazing spent?
    No; let me be obsequious in thy heart,
    And take thou my oblation, poor but free,
    Which is not mix’d with seconds, knows no art,
    But mutual render, only me for thee.
    Hence, thou suborn’d informer! a true soul
    When most impeach’d stands least in thy control.

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Shakespeare Sonnet 125:  “Were’t aught to me I bore the canopy”

    In sonnet 125, the speaker is addressing his muse, concluding that despite his dedication and even addiction to poetry creation, all he has to give his muse is his own soul.

    First Quatrain:  An Opening Inquiry

    Were’t aught to me I bore the canopy
    With my extern the outward honouring,
    Or laid great bases for eternity,
    Which prove more short than waste or ruining?

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 125, the speaker asks a question:  was I the one who brought any attention to myself, my outward behavior, or did I create any useful foundations that attested merely to fickleness and debasement?

    Through the question, the speaker is implying that he would not choose to flaunt himself or his works and would not claim that they could stand the test of time.   The speaker’s desire always returns to the process of creating soulful masterpieces for later generations, not demonstrating his prowess to contemporaries by outward show. 

    The speaker also implies in the question that what he has created might, in fact, have a very short shelf life or might even bring negative criticism to him as their creator.  But by framing such implications with a question, he is hinting that these estimations are probably not accurate.

    Second Quatrain:  Further Inquiry

    Have I not seen dwellers on form and favour
    Lose all and more by paying too much rent,
    For compound sweet foregoing simple savour
    Pitiful thrivers, in their gazing spent?

    The second quatrain also features a question:  Have not my critics shown their poverty of thought by “gazing” too intently at my status and faintly at my works, while gliding over any good they possess and directing their attention to trifles?  The speaker likens his critics to people living in glass houses who throw stones.  

    They are “dwellers on form and favour,” and by positing that the speaker’s lot in life is low, they lose their credibility by concentrating on his class and less on his works.  They become “pitiful thrivers” who discounted “simple savour” while looking too intently for “compound sweet.”  

    Third Quatrain:  A Negative Answer

    No; let me be obsequious in thy heart,
    And take thou my oblation, poor but free,
    Which is not mix’d with seconds, knows no art,
    But mutual render, only me for thee.

    The speaker then answers his questions in the negative, showing that he will not concern himself with the possibility that he has become too showy, that he lost his ability to create substantial, long-living works, nor that he will give credence to his critics.

    Instead, he demands that his muse allow him to “be obsequious in thy heart.”  He commands, “take thou my oblation, poor but free,” bringing forth his humbleness.  Although he is financially “poor,” it is more  important for the artist to be “free,” and he asserts that such is his situation.

    He insists that his intentions are pure, but all he has to offer in the end is himself:  his offering “is not mix’d with seconds” and contains no guile.  The Muse, his conscience, and the writer soul “mutual[ly] render” what each possesses.   There is “only me for thee.”  The speaker as artist can only offer himself to his muse, who has so graciously offered herself to him.

    The Couplet:  A Clean Heart and Grateful Mind

    Hence, thou suborn’d informer! a true soul
    When most impeach’d stands least in thy control.

    Because the speaker humbly believes that he has assessed his situation rightly, he can claim himself to be “a true soul.” Even if accused of offenses that he cannot “control,” he knows his own soul has remained devoted to his goal, and for that he can claim a clean heart and grateful mind.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 126 “O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power”

    Sonnet 126 “O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power” presents a problem; it is not technically a sonnet.  It plays out in only 12 lines in six couplets, not the traditional 3 quatrains and a couplet.  It is located between the so-called “young man” sequence and the “dark lady” sonnets.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 126 “O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power”

    While many Shakespeare scholars have classified the 154 sonnets into three thematic categories, “The Marriage Sonnets” (1-17), “The Fair Youth Sonnets” (18-216), and “The Dark Lady Sonnets” (127-154), others combine the marriage and fair youth groups into one group labeling them, “The Young Man Sonnets.”  

    The marriage sonnets do address a young man as they plead with him to marry and produce pleasing offspring, but the fair youth sonnets do not address any person, with the exception of sonnet 126, which seems to address “my lovely boy”; instead of focusing on a “fair youth,” those sonnets focus on the poet’s musings on his talent or writing ability. In some of the sonnets in this group, the speaker even directly addresses the sonnets.   

    Still in other sonnets in the “Fair Youth” category, the speaker complains about the issue of low inspiration.   Thus a more accurate label for “The Fair Youth Sonnets” is “The Muse Sonnets,” which I employ in my commentaries.

    A Problem Sonnet

    In addition to the issue of theme, however, sonnet 126 presents a further problem: it is not technically a sonnet.  Its final lines consist of two phantom lines represented by two sets of empty parentheses.

    The traditional Elizabethan sonnet consists of 14 lines displayed in three quatrains and a couplet with the rime scheme ABABCDCDEFEFGG. All of the other sonnets in this sequence conform to that traditional format, but sonnet 126 departs drastically, consisting of six riming couplets, totaling 12 actual lines of content not the usual 14.  

    Furthermore, sonnet 126 is addressing the issue of aging; it is not exhorting a young man to marry and produce offspring, as the marriage sonnets do.  Nor does it clearly address his writing talent or the sonnet itself, as those sonnets in the thematic group, “The Muse Sonnets,”  do.

    One might speculate that this sonnet should be located between “The Marriage Sonnets” and “The Muse Sonnets.”  If the speaker is addressing the same young man in sonnet 126 as he is addressing the marriage sonnets, it makes sense that he would make such a statement about the aging process to him as a final persuasion point.

    If, on the other hand, the speaker is addressing himself, as he so often does in the “Muse Sonnets,” then the placement is accurate but a different interpretation would be required for the subject matter of the poem. For example, he could be addressing himself, calling himself “my lovely boy,” and trying to persuade himself to make the best of the time remaining to him while he still can.

    Sonnet 126 “O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power”

    O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power
    Dost hold Time’s fickle glass, his sickle hour;
    Who hast by waning grown, and therein show’st
    Thy lovers withering as thy sweet self grow’st;
    If Nature, sovereign mistress over wrack,
    As thou goest onwards, still will pluck thee back,
    She keeps thee to this purpose, that her skill
    May time disgrace and wretched minutes kill.
    Yet fear her, O thou minion of her pleasure!
    She may detain, but not still keep, her treasure:
      Her audit, though delay’d, answer’d must be,
      And her quietus is to render thee
    (——————————————————-)
    (——————————————————-).

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 126 “O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power”

    Not technically a “sonnet,” #126 remains problematic..  It has only 12 lines in six rimed couplets.  It is located between the so-called “young man” sequence and the “dark lady” sonnets.

    First Couplet:  Time and the Mirror

    O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power
    Dost hold Time’s fickle glass, his sickle hour;

    The speaker addresses the young man, calling him “my lovely boy,” and remarking that the young man has the ability to look into the mirror and know that time is passing.  The phrase, “his sickle hour” refers to time cutting down youth, metaphorically with a sharp harvesting blade.

    Second Couplet:  The Loss of Youth

    Who hast by waning grown, and therein show’st
    Thy lovers withering as thy sweet self grow’st;

    In the second couplet, the speaker refers to the young man’s losing his youthfulness as he has grown into a mature adult, and even as those who have loved him may have withered into old age, the young man is also continuing to  grow older, although he may still seem to remain young and vibrant for a time.

    Third Couplet and Fourth Couplets:  What If?

    If Nature, sovereign mistress over wrack,
    As thou goest onwards, still will pluck thee back,
    She keeps thee to this purpose, that her skill
    May time disgrace and wretched minutes kill.

    The third couplet finds the speaker beginning an “if” clause with the main clause in the fourth couplet:  if nature who rules over the wreckage of bodily aging will keep you in your prime for what seems an unusual period of time, she’s merely playing tricks, even though it may seem she has the skill to disgrace time and make minutes cease to tick by. 

    Fifth Couplet:  An Admonition

    Yet fear her, O thou minion of her pleasure!
    She may detain, but not still keep, her treasure:

    The speaker admonishes the young man not to let nature use him for “her pleasure” by believing she will allow him to keep his youth forever.  She may put off making him look old, but she will not sustain his youth, even though it may be considered her “treasure” to have him always fresh and lovely and in his prime.

    Sixth Couplet:  The Reckoning

    Her audit, though delay’d, answer’d must be,
      And her quietus is to render thee

    The speaker’s final warning uses an accounting metaphor:  though nature may delay her “audit” or reckoning of the youth’s years, they will definitely be counted because it is just the way she operates.  She will make him aged and feeble in the end.

    Seventh Phantom Couplet:  What Might the Empty Lines Suggest?

    (——————————————————-)
    (——————————————————-).

    The seventh phantom couplet seems to suggest that some error has caused the text to have been lost.  Or that the addition of two lines of empty parentheses intends to keep the poem a 14-line sonnet.

    According to Carl D. Atkins, the empty parentheses serve as a placeholder to keep the text from allowing an ugly empty space during the printing process.   Because all of the other sonnets featured fourteen lines, this aberration with merely 12 had to be remedied.

    Helen Vendler offers a bizarre interpretation of those empty parentheses:  

    . . . no couplet exists.  But its absence is compensated for by the extreme phonemic resonances listed above.  The Quarto’s two sets of eloquently silent parentheses (which I retain) emphasize the reader’s desire for a couplet and the grim fact of its lack.  Inside parentheses there lies, so to speak, the mute effigy of the rendered youth.

    Vendler had begun her commentary on sonnet 126 by likening the first four couplets to “a perfect octave” in a Petrarchan sonnet, with lines 9-12 representing the sestet.  So, of course, no couplet  in the Shakespearean sense would be present in an Italian form, but the entire Shakespeare sonnet 126 is six sets of couplets. 

    But Vendler tries to have it both ways by interpreting the phantom lines (the empty parentheses) as a Shakespearean couplet, while imputing possible meaning to those phantom lines.  Such an interpretation becomes a fool’s errand because the Shakespeare sonneteer did not write the lines.

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  • Shakespeare Sonnets:  The Muse Sonnets 18—73

    Image: Shake-speares Sonnets Hank Whittemore’s Shakespeare Blog

    Shakespeare Sonnets:  The Muse Sonnets 18—73

    Shakespeare Sonnet 18 “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”

    Shakespeare sonnet 18 “Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer’s Day” is one of the bard’s most widely anthologized—and most widely misunderstood—sonnets. There is no person in this sonnet: the speaker is not comparing/contrasting the beauty of nature and the beauty of a paramour.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 18 “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”

    The second thematic group within the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence is “The Muse Sonnets,” and that groups begins with sonnet 18 “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”; the Shakespeare speaker shifts from persuading a young man to marry and produce pleasing offspring to addressing important issues vis-à-vis his writing ability. 

    In “The Muse Sonnets” (18-126), which comprise the majority of the classic 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker is addressing his muse, his own frailties, and often the poem itself in his attempt to guarantee that he always faces a profound issue with which to grapple in his creative writings.

    Sonnet 18 “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? focuses on the speaker’s comparing the sonnet to a day in summer.  This sonnet has been widely misunderstood to be comparing a paramour to a summer’s day; yet, there is no human being in this sonnet or in any of the others that comprise this thematic group.

    This group of sonnets (18-126) has been widely mischaracterized as speaking to a young man and thus, in my opinion, wrongly titled as “The Fair Youth” sonnets.  A close reading reveals that the speaker is not addressing any person in this group of sonnets. 

    Sonnet 18 “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day” remains an example of the traditional English sonnet, also labeled Shakespearean or Elizabethan sonnet.  This form includes three quatrains with the rime scheme ABAB CDCD EFEF and a couplet with the rime GG. 

    Sonnet 18 “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”

    Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
    Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
    Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
    And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:
    Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
    And often is his gold complexion dimm’d;
    And every fair from fair sometime declines,
    By chance, or nature’s changing course untrimm’d;
    But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
    Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,
    Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
    When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st;
      So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
      So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

    Original Text 

    Better Reading    

    Commentary on Sonnet 18: “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”

    Comparing his sonnet to a summer day, the speaker finds his own creation to possess advantages over that beautiful seasonal wonder.  Please note that there is no person in this sonnet; yet it is often interpreted as a paean to a lover.

    First Quatrain: A Sonnet Outlasts Summer

    ShallI compare thee to a summer’s day?
    Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
    Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
    And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:

    This quatrain has the speaker musing on whether he should compare his sonnet to a day in summer.  Then he begins the comparison which is in actuality a contrast. He contends that the sonnet is, in fact, “more lovely”  and more even-tempered than one of those beautiful  summer days.  

    The idea that his sonnet is more beautiful is, of course, just the speaker’s opinion, but he intends to prove that his opinion is accurate.  Thus he claims that the early flowers of May are sometimes molested by “rough winds,” and with this fact alone, it can be demonstrated that a summer day is not always so “temperate.”

    He then adds that summer simply does not remain long; the season comes and the quickly goes.  His sonnet, however, may last eternally after it has been written. The sonnet’s beauty will remain mild, not shaking any buds with any empty, gusty winds. 

    The audience is likely aware that summer does not actually begin in May but in the middle of June.  However, the speaker, by asserting that even in May the weather may be disagreeable, is suggesting that one can likely expect some equally bad weather to come along in summer proper.

    Second Quatrain: No Fickle Weather in a Sonnet

    Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
    And often is his gold complexion dimm’d;
    And every fair from fair sometime declines,
    By chance, or nature’s changing course untrimm’d;

    The speaker now is bemoaning the heat of summer because sometimes it can simply become too hot; this “eye of heaven” can beam down uncomfortable weather conditions during the season of summer.  Also, that same sun can become obscured by a cover of clouds.  Thus a day in summer can become unpleasant in ways that the sonnet never will.  

    The sonnet will never be spoiled by too hot sunshine; it will never become obscured by a cloud cover.  The sonnets will stand in loveliness in a permanent manner, even as a day in summer may become unpleasant through extreme sun activity and cloud maneuvers.

    It should be noted that the speaker selected the most pleasant season with which to compare/contrast his sonnet.   If he had selected to compare/contrast  his poem to a winter day, he might be considered to proffered an unfair advantage to his argument.

    The speaker confessed that natural creations diminish with time, including people.  Some things decay “by chance” while other will be lessened with the transformative activities of nature. 

    The speaker has been comparing/contrasting the sonnet to the summer day, and already the summer day’s weights in negatively with rough winds shaking the early blossoms, the sun shining too hot while suffering sometimes being shaded with clouds.   The speaker is making it clear that all of these natural diminishings cannot molest his sonnet.

    Third Quatrain:  Existence in Perpetuity

    But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
    Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,
    Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
    When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st;

    In this stanza, the speaker lays out the advantages possessed by the sonnet over those of the day in summer.  The summer day must end, while the sonnet may remain eternally.  The sonnet is not subject to the same ravages of time that are imposed on a summer day.

    The “summer” of a sonnet will never fade as that of the natural summer must, and the sonnet will continue to hold its unique beauty.  The sonnet will never die as human beings must, as the sonnet will exist in the poet’s “eternal lines.”

    The Couplet:  Temperate throughout Eternity

    So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
      So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

    In the couplet, the speaker concludes his discussion with definite finality, summing up his argument with a flourish. As long as people exist and are capable of reading, the speaker’s sonnets will also continue to exist and retain their beauty.  

    Unlike a day in summer that will continue to demonstrate unfavorable temperatures and then come to an end, the speaker’s sonnet will continue to remain “temperate,” and it will retain its loveliness eternally.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 19 “Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion’s paws”

    In Shakespeare sonnet 19 Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion’s paws,” the speaker is personifying and challenging Time to devastate his art as he does all living creatures as they age; then the speaker declares and affirms that Time cannot devastate or diminish his art.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 19 “Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion’s paws”

    In the thematic group “The Marriage Sonnets, 1–17” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker is attempting to convince a young man that he should marry and produce offspring.  Throughout the sequence, the speaker employs a number of colorful conceits to bolster his argument.

    The speaker in sonnets 18-126 “The Muse Sonnets” is addressing the poet’s own talent and art, often directly addressing the very poem he is writing.  Again, he employs a number of colorful and dramatic situations to explore his relationship with his art and his ability to create it.

    And finally, in “The Dark Lady Sonnets, 127-154,” the speaker is exploring and dramatizing a relationship with a woman of ill repute.  In sonnet 19, the speaker is again broaching the subject of his writing talent, as he had begun doing in sonnet 18, in which he addressed the poem itself.  Sonnet 19 differs in that the speaker is addressing “Time.” 

    In sonnet 19, the speaker is personifying “Time” in order to challenge it to spoil his artistic efforts as the passage of time does to all living creatures as they age. The speaker, however, proclaims that Time cannot lay waste to his art.

    Sonnet 19 “Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion’s paws”

    Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion’s paws
    And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
    Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger’s jaws,
    And burn the long-liv’d phoenix in her blood;
    Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets,
    And do whate’er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,
    To the wide world and all her fading sweets;
    But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:
    O! carve not with thy hours my love’s fair brow,
    Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;
    Him in thy course untainted do allow
    For beauty’s pattern to succeeding men.
    Yet, do thy worst, old Time: despite thy wrong,
    My love shall in my verse ever live young.

    Original Text

    Better Reading 

    Commentary on Sonnet 19 “Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion’s paws”

    As this thematic group of sonnets continues to attest, this clever, creative speaker is enjoying his opportunity to challenge his adversaries—even devastatingly strong ones such as Time.  His colorful drama plays out in order to offer a triumphant final claim.

    First Quatrain:  Battling with Time

    Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion’s paws
    And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
    Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger’s jaws,
    And burn the long-liv’d phoenix in her blood;

    In the first quatrain, the speaker commences with his direct engagement with Time, in what turns out to be a battle of wills.  He is upbraiding Time, challenging it to go ahead and makes “the lion’s paws” dull and unreliable with the aging process; also let sharp incisors of the tiger fail; even let the ever-reviving phoenix succumb to the ashes.  

    The images of these robust, magnificent creatures being overwhelmed by the ravages of time create a substantial background against which the speaker can aver his later declaration.  

    This clever speaker has even alluded to the mythical phoenix, the bird that is capable of reviving itself after setting itself ablaze; however, even the phoenix boasted a life-span of only five hundred years

    Second Quatrain:  Forbidding Crime

    Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets,
    And do whate’er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,
    To the wide world and all her fading sweets;
    But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:

    In the second quatrain, this clever speaker is challenging the personified Time to create joyous seasons and sad seasons as he hurries by.  The speaker even encourages Time to continue on and do whatever he wishes to the whole world.  The speaker insists that everything lovely will vanish with the passage of the seasons and years. 

    But the speaker admonishes Time not to afflict one special being. The insistent speaker declares vehemently that there exists one crime which is so horrendous that the speaker will not permit Time to commit.

    Third Quatrain:  A Time of Carving

    O! carve not with thy hours my love’s fair brow,
    Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;
    Him in thy course untainted do allow
    For beauty’s pattern to succeeding men.

    In the third quatrain, the speaker unveils the “heinous crime” which he forbids Time to commit: he will not allow Time to cause his poetic creation to grow old and fade.  The speaker personifies his sonnet by giving it a face with a “fair brow.” 

    After Time has employed his tools to “carve” lines into the forehead of an individual, the results are the wrinkles that all old people sport. The speaker demands of Time that he not etch those lines on the faces of his sonnets.  

    The clever, adroit speaker is employing the pun—”lines”—which refers to both old age wrinkles in a human face and strings of works with which sonnets are composed.  The speaker forbids Time to try to impose upon his works—his “love”—the results of Time’s having written with his “antique pen.”  

    The speaker will not permit Time to overwrite upon his works with his old writing instrument, because this insistent speaker/poet wants his poems to remain fresh and youthful in order to allow succeeding generations to enjoy and appreciate them.  

    The speaker is creating beauty and storing it in his sonnets, where he knows Time will not be capable of dimming that beauty.  His little drama is simply producing a fascinating dilemma which the speaker can easily repudiate because of his masterful skill in poetry creation.

    The Couplet:  Meeting the Challenge

    Yet, do thy worst, old Time: despite thy wrong,
    My love shall in my verse ever live young.

    In the couplet, the speaker seems to be reversing his argument.  He declares, addressing his adversary time, on the other hand, move ahead, “old Time,” do your strongest mischief to devastate my love—my God-given talent—and these sonnets of mine.   And even though you strive your very hardest, “My love shall in my verse ever live young.” 

    This determined speaker’s love, which is his art, his talent for producing beauty in sonnets, is incorruptible by time.  His talent will remain young, strong, and full of life eternally.

    The speaker, thereby, has overcome the age old obstacle wherein beauty vanishes into rot and decay.   At the very least, he has addressed that ancient issue so far as his God-given writing talent, skill, and abilities are concerned.  

    By crafting beautiful works of art, this creative, resourceful, and talented speaker will permit to be available for perusing a part of his mind and heart, and that viewing will remain throughout eternity or as long as humanity can see, hear, read, and listen.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 20 “A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted”

    In the Shakespearean sonnet 20 “A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted,” the speaker is again addressing his poem, likening it to a woman’s charms but finding it less fickle and more capable of consistently shielding love.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 20“A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted”

    The Shakespearean sonnet 20 “A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence belongs to the group of sonnets that some Shakespeare scholars and critics have designated as the “Fair Youth” (or young man) theme.  However, those scholars and critics have also conceded that their classifications are not ironclad.   

    And as readers experience these sonnets, they come to realize that there is, indeed, no young man nor any person at all in sonnets 18–126.  Clearly, sonnets 1-17 can accurately be designated at the “The Marriage Sonnets,” in which the speaker is urging a young man to marry and produce offspring to ensure his legacy.

    However, sonnets 18–126, as my commentaries humbly argue, do not portray the kind of relationship that some scholars have claimed for them; instead, they reveal a speaker contemplating and musing upon his own ability to create art—his poetry and plays.  At times, he addresses his “muse,” the inspiration for the content of his art, and other times, he addresses his talent generally.  

    Still other times, he addresses the issue of periods of low inspiration—a phenomenon that all  creative writers face periodically.  And often, he speaks directly to his poems, as in the first sonnet of this thematic group, sonnet 18 “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?,” in which the “thee” in the first line and title refers to his sonnet.

    In sonnet 20 “A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted,” the speaker is not addressing a person but again his sonnet, as he often does in this thematic group of sonnets 18-126.  He is comparing the sonnet to the qualities of a woman, for whom he claims sonnets were first created.  As in sonnet 18, he finds the sonnet’s qualities to be more genuine, less fickle, and to hold more love.

    Sonnet 20 “A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted”

    A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted
    Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;
    A woman’s gentle heart, but not acquainted
    With shifting change, as is false women’s fashion:
    An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,
    Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;
    A man in hue all hues in his controlling,  
    Which steals men’s eyes and women’s souls amazeth.  
    And for a woman wert thou first created;  
    Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,
    And by addition me of thee defeated,
    By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.
      But since she prick’d thee out for women’s pleasure,
      Mine be thy love, and thy love’s use their treasure.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 20 “A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted”

    In sonnet 20 “A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted,” the speaker is again addressing his poem, likening it to a woman’s charms, but finding it less fickle and more capable of consistently shielding love.

    First Quatrain:  Grace without Fickleness

    A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted
    Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;
    A woman’s gentle heart, but not acquainted
    With shifting change, as is false women’s fashion:

    In the first quatrain, the speaker tells the sonnet that it has the grace of a woman’s countenance without the fickleness.  The sonnet is the “master-mistress” of the poet’s “passion.”  Thus the speaker likens the poem to a woman companion, but he finds the poem an even more satisfying companion because the poem’s face is naturally painted with nature and not cosmetics as a human woman often is. 

    Also, the sonnet will remain steadfast because it will retain its same thoughts, its same little drama, not changing with the seasons or with any fickle passion that may cross the adult human female mind.  The speaker holds the sonnet to have more charm because of its temperate qualities, unlike those of women whose passions may run hot and cold from time to time.

    Fortunately, the poem does possess through metaphoric personification a “woman’s gentle heart”—the positive, permanent qualities of the so-called gentler sex also are featured in the sonnet.  That the poem will retain those qualities in their original beauty pleases the speaker.

    Second Quatrain:  Bright and Brighter

    An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,
    Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;
    A man in hue all hues in his controlling,  
    Which steals men’s eyes and women’s souls amazeth.  

    In the second quatrain, the speaker continues to compare the attributes of the poem to those of a woman.  He finds a woman to have bright eyes, but the poem’s eyes are even brighter and “less false in rolling.”  And what the poem gazes upon becomes gilded: it saves for future generations the subject that is placed into it.  

    And like a painter who controls the colors that he uses with his brushes, the poem “steals men’s eyes and women’s souls” because of the poet’s amazing skill at capturing the momentous drama as it occurs.

    As the speaker compliments the poem’s pleasant qualities, he is also by implication praising his own ability to create such pleasing, true works.  The speaker remains confident in his ability to infuse his poems with truth, beauty, and other enduring features that future generations will visit and appreciate.  

    In their lack of fickleness, his poems and other works of art (such as his plays) will be able to present all thoughts, feelings, and issues in a clever, clear, but honest little drama.

    Third Quatrain:  Origin of the Sonnet

    And for a woman wert thou first created;  
    Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,
    And by addition me of thee defeated,
    By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.

    The speaker says that the poem was first created for a woman; he is, no doubt, alluding to Giacomo da Lentini, who is credited with the invention of the sonnet, and to Petrarch, who popularized the form.  Each poet employed the form to idealize and thus idolize a woman.  But then along comes this particular speaker by the grace of nature who realizes that such unreality causes the art form to fall; its “doting” became too fanciful to be useful.

    The speaker with his new understanding of realism is defeating that outmoded purpose.  The old way of mere idolization is not the present speaker’s purpose.  This speaker/poet wants to make rime that truly represents the nature of the subject he chooses to immortalize.  And he praises the sonnet as such a practical and useful vehicle.

    The Couplet:  To Make a Useful Form

      But since she prick’d thee out for women’s pleasure,
      Mine be thy love, and thy love’s use their treasure.

    Still the speaker recognizes the feminine attraction to poetry and has no wish to change that fact.  The speaker, however, will devote his talent, his skill, and his love of his art to make the sonnets a useful form that will hold love as “their treasure.”

    The speaker is convinced that his art will serve as a repository for his important musings, featuring useful and pleasing qualities that afford humankind a solid foundation for growth and prosperity—especially in cultural issues.  His complete confidence in his ability to create treasures of art prompts him to continue to strive and achieve.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 21 “So is it not with me as with that Muse”

    The theme of sonnet 21 “So is it not with me as with that Muse” from the thematic group “The Muse Sonnets” is similar to other sonnets that offer praise while portraying a realistic description of the belovèd, instead of the exaggerations that amount to untruths.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 21 “So is it not with me as with that Muse”

    In Shakespeare’s era as now, many people thought that poetry was something that was ethereal and dainty and that poets were interested only in sugar-coating ugliness or moving it out of daily affairs.  

    But the speaker in this group of sonnets—”The Muse Sonnets”—is writing to change that perception, by affirming that true love does not have to be compared only to beautiful flowers and gemstones and stars.  This speaker wants to reveal beauty as it appears, not as something that has been cosmeticized and, therefore, falsified.   

    From the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, Shakespeare sonnet 21 “So is it not with me as with that Muse” finds the speaker railing against a poetic tradition that he disdains because of its failure to describe truthfully, thus depriving true beauty of its rightful place in the cosmos.

    Sonnet 21 “So is it not with me as with that Muse”

    So is it not with me as with that Muse
    Stirr’d by a painted beauty to his verse,
    Who heaven itself for ornament doth use  
    And every fair with his fair doth rehearse,
    Making a couplement of proud compare,
    With sun and moon, with earth and sea’s rich gems,
    With April’s first-born flowers, and all things rare
    That heaven’s air in this huge rondure hems.
    O! let me, true in love, but truly write,
    And then believe me, my love is as fair
    As any mother’s child, though not so bright
    As those gold candles fix’d in heaven’s air:
      Let them say more that like of hear-say well;
      I will not praise that purpose not to sell.

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    Commentary on Shakespeare Sonnet 21 “So is it not with me as with that Muse”

    Sonnet 21 resembles other sonnets of praise that portray a realistic description of the belovèd target, instead of the exaggerations that amount to falsehoods.  This speaker consistently contends that he is interested only in the genuine and the truthful.

    First Quatrain:   False Beauty

    So is it not with me as with that Muse
    Stirr’d by a painted beauty to his verse,
    Who heaven itself for ornament doth use  
    And every fair with his fair doth rehearse

    In the first quatrain of Shakespeare sonnet 21 “So is it not with me as with that Muse,” the speaker says that he will not be like the poet who, while motivated by false beauty, paints artificial beauty upon his belovèd.  Interestingly, the speaker is not referring to a person but instead to his sonnets.    

    The speaker has no intention of painting a false face or façade of beauty upon his poems by comparing his subject matter to heaven. He also will not assert or claim that fake loveliness may ever equal true loveliness.  He demonstrates his inner strength garnered through only positive, accurate qualities and descriptions.

    This speaker desires to further his reputation by functioning as a plain speaking sonneteer; his art is too important to him to exaggerate and run the risk of being misunderstood.  

    He has no interest in employing the use of imaginary claims for the true and the beautiful merely to enhance his poetry.  This honest, clever speaker wishes to have his poetry represent truth itself, not a version of truth.  He strives for the original, not the stock images that had come to dominate poetry.

    Second Quatrain:  Painted Beauty

    Making a couplement of proud compare,
    With sun and moon, with earth and sea’s rich gems,
    With April’s first-born flowers, and all things rare
    That heaven’s air in this huge rondure hems.

    Continuing his list of ways that other poets have painted beauty on the faces of their poems, he asserts that he will not compare his sonnets’ subjects to the “sun and moon” or gemstones or the first rush of beauty of April’s blooms. 

    While other poets pick out many of the most beautiful things on the earth to enhance their poems, he opposes such exaggeration as falsehood.  He will not engage in such counterfeit speaking.

    By filtering out the aspects and qualities of existence that do not comport with a mainstream shallow notion of the good, the true, and the beautiful, artists lose their grasp on reality and end up launching high-flown rhetoric that never seems to land anywhere, never has the ability to engage the intellect or to inspire the heart.  

    This speaker is interested in soul qualities, which are genuine, inherently beautiful, and eternal.  And this deep-thinking speaker has become aware that sometimes those true aspects do not shine out from the surface of things.

    Third Quatrain:  From the Heart

    O! let me, true in love, but truly write,
    And then believe me, my love is as fair
    As any mother’s child, though not so bright
    As those gold candles fix’d in heaven’s air:

    In the third quatrain, the speaker asserts that his heart is interested in truth.  This speaker desires to feature only what is actually real, not exaggeration and artificiality.     This genuine artist/speaker desires that his writing portray and dramatize only true beauty in order for his readers to accept what he says as truth.  

    He knows that readers can see through such exaggeration and that they do not appreciate being lied to, nor do the types of readers, whom this speaker seeks out, fancy condescension and flattery.

    The speaker asserts that his love, that is, his poetry—remember, there are no persons in this sequence of sonnets, 18–126, the largest section of the 154 sonnet sequence—may not be as bright as stars; nevertheless, his poetry is like his children and is as glorious to him as “any mother’s child.”  

    Thus, while his poem will exude reality, it will not aspire to the same glow that one sees in the stars in the sky.  Those heavenly bright “gold candles” will have no competitor in this genuine artist.

    The Couplet:  No Interest in False Exaggeration

    Let them say more that like of hear-say well;
      I will not praise that purpose not to sell.

    The speaker allows that others may exaggerate—”[l]et them say more”—those who are not interested in direct or plain speaking, those who are interested only in “hear-say.”This speaker has no intention of praising that which does not deserve praise.  

    And he is not interested in selling his verse widely to an undiscriminating audience.  This speaker continues to assert his belief in the genuine, the true, the beautiful, and the lovely—all that speak directly to the heart and mind of discriminating audiences.  

    He has no interest in acquiring a gathering of eyeballs that are easily distracted by shallowness, fakery, and condescension.  He and his muse must remain above the vulgar, the mundane, and the ordinary by keeping their minds and hearts on the straight path to blessèdness.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 22 “My glass shall not persuade me I am old”

    The speaker in sonnet 22 “My glass shall not persuade me I am old” asserts that despite his death, his talent for creating poems will cause them to retain his love, inspiring future generations. Confidently, he asserts that his little dramas will continue to inspire all those who encounter them.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 22 “My glass shall not persuade me I am old”

    From the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence,  this sonnet 22 “My glass shall not persuade me I am old” belongs to “The Muse Sonnets” thematic subsequence, wherein the Shakespeare writer has his speaker question and examine his abilities for composing sonnets; this group comprises the largest section in the 154 poem sequence.  

    As has been shown before, the first thematic section includes the first 17 sonnets.  The second thematic section includes 18-126—109 sonnets.  The final section, the “Dark Lady” theme includes 127-154 or 28 sonnets. 

    It remains completely appropriate that a writer such as the one experienced in the Shakespeare canon would be absorbed in his own writing process, as this thematic subsequence of 109 sonnets attests.  Therefore, it is unsurprising that he demonstrates more interest with more sonnets in his composing muse than in the themes of the other two subsequence—”The Marriage Sonnets” and “The Dark Lady Sonnets.” 

    Thus the speaker in sonnet 22 “My glass shall not persuade me I am old” is asserting that despite the aging and eventual death of his phis divinely inspired sonnets will inspire future generations.

    Sonnet 22 “My glass shall not persuade me I am old”

    My glass shall not persuade me I am old
    So long as youth and thou are of one date;
    But when in thee time’s furrows I behold,
    Then look I death my days should expiate.
    For all that beauty that doth cover thee
    Is but the seemly raiment of my heart,
    Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me:
    How can I then, be elder than thou art?
    O! therefore, love, be of thyself so wary
    As I, not for myself, but for thee will;
    Bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary
    As tender nurse her babe from faring ill.
    Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain;
    Thou gav’st me thine, not to give back again.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 22 “My glass shall not persuade me I am old”

    The speaker in sonnet 22 “My glass shall not persuade me I am old” asserts that despite his physical aging and death, his talent for creating poems will eternally retain his love, inspiring future generations.  

    Although such musings may seem hubristic at first blush to readers, commentarians, and critics of literature five centuries later, such a self-evaluation seems to be right on target, as contemporary readers still marvel at the Shakespearean accomplishments.

    First Quatrain:  Maintaining His Inner Youth

    My glass shall not persuade me I am old
    So long as youth and thou are of one date;
    But when in thee time’s furrows I behold,
    Then look I death my days should expiate.

    In the first quatrain, the speaker broaches the issue of aging.  He asserts that when he looks into his mirror, he will not believe that he is old as long as youth itself and his writing talent/poems have not aged.   Of course, youth itself will not have aged, and it makes sense that his poems will not age because of the cosmic subject matter he is engaging.  

    The speaker’s sonnets will sit eternally on the page ever speaking in the speaker’s voice. However, if the speaker finds that his poems are aging with “time’s furrows,” he shall expect his own life will atone for his own death.  

    His life can accomplish such atonement only through his creative writing, his poetry—his sonnets but likely his plays also.  His focus will remain on his desired goal of ever improving and polishing his talent in producing pleasing retainers for his enlightened thinking.

    Second Quatrain:  Beauty from the Heart

    For all that beauty that doth cover thee
    Is but the seemly raiment of my heart,
    Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me:
    How can I then, be elder than thou art?

    The speaker asserts that the beauty that decorates his poems is the same as the beauty that grows in the speaker’s heart.  The same beauty and life that live in the poetry’s heart also live in the speaker’s heart; they are one and the same, so one cannot be older than the other.  

    The speaker, even though he will eventually appear in the mirror to reflect a withered brow and graying hair, will still retain his youth because of his ability to understand the ageless soul nature of his own being and that of his poetic artistry.

    That his poetry will retain a vibrancy and relevancy remains foremost to this speaker, as he contemplates, muses upon, and then creates each little drama.  His creative force will keep him inline on his true path to self-awareness and will keep him progressing to his next level of achievement.  

    This speaker’s unflagging ability to remain focused on his goal will continue to spark his creative juices which will continue to flow in the proper direction—ever upward.  His ability to foresee such eventualities is astonishing yet it rests there on the page for the world of readers to experience.

    Third Quatrain:  Addressing Love

    O! therefore, love, be of thyself so wary
    As I, not for myself, but for thee will;
    Bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary
    As tender nurse her babe from faring ill.

    In the third quatrain, the speaker addresses “love,” personifying his belovèd writing and asking it to guard itself against the danger of sinking into mediocrity because he will also take this same precaution.  He will guard his talent the same way a “tender nurse [protects] her babe from faring ill.” 

    This speaker, therefore, can make such seemingly obvious promises because he and his works are one, just as he and his heart’s love are one and the same.   The drama the speaker creates brings out into the light of day the thoughts and feelings that usually run beneath the surface like an underground river.

    The unity, with which this speaker offers his creations, keeps his ideas and feelings in check; his emotions are not ever allowed to spew forth mere squishy, nauseating effusions. He eschews all forms of falsehoods, especially those presented in tinsel and decoration.

    Amateurish fraudsters and poetasters are blinded by their own emotions to the point that they lose the mental capacity to limit and contain their fly-by-night word salads.  This speaker retains evermore strengthening abilities to marshal courage and fortitude as well as sweetness and compassion.

    The Couplet:  Addressing His Sonnet

    Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain;
    Thou gav’st me thine, not to give back again.

    In the couplet, the speaker addresses his sonnet and asks it not to think merely because this speaker/poet will die that it will also die.  He received his gift from his Divine Creator and that gift became his writing talent, which he has retained for all eternity.

    Therefore, the speaker’s physical death cannot result in his spiritual death, and he is leaving his love easily received by future generations in his sonnets and other writings.  That this speaker is prescient in grasping the importance of his ability to transcend time remains one of his most endearing qualities.  

    As readers five centuries after he wrote delve into the deep-thinking mind of this poet through his sonnet creations, they understand the unity of soul awareness, and they even get a glimpse of the unifying nature of art.  

    This supremely talented artist will always be one of the great arbiters of culture, and his works will remain a blessing upon the citizens who take the time and put forth the effort to appreciate them.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 23 “As an unperfect actor on the stage”

    The speaker in sonnet 23 “As an unperfect actor on the stage” reveals that human failures have caused his lack of skill in professing love; thus he hopes his writing skill will properly portray his heart.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 23 “As an unperfect actor on the stage”

    From the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the second thematic group—“The Muse Sonnets”—continues with the speaker musing on his various attitudes regarding his writing. 

    He also cogitates on a multitudes of uses to which he can put his writing, but his primary focus remains the pursuit of beauty and truth, as he maintains the importance of love in human experience.  

    He wishes above all that his writings remain pure and unsullied.  Thus the speaker in sonnet 23 “As an unperfect actor on the stage” has a strong wish to dramatize the love that resides within his being.  He, therefore, admonishes his readers to acquire the skill required for reading poetry with understanding and appreciation.

    This poet/speaker places great importance on his art, for he remains certain that only his art is capable of expressing clearly and convincingly his true feelings.  Because his physical tongue too often becomes paralyzed in attempting to express deep, strong emotion, he must rely on the word writ across the page to express that affection.

    Sonnet 23 “As an unperfect actor on the stage”

    As an unperfect actor on the stage
    Who with his fear is put beside his part,
    Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
    Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart;
    So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
    The perfect ceremony of love’s rite,
    And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay,  
    O’ercharg’d with burden of mine own love’s might.
    O! let my books be then the eloquence
    And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,
    Who plead for love, and look for recompense,
    More than that tongue that more hath more express’d.  
      O! learn to read what silent love hath writ:
      To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 23 “As an unperfect actor on the stage”

    The speaker is employing a theatre metaphor to explore his feelings and to offer advice to future generations regarding their sensibilities relative to fine art appreciation.  As a mastercraftsman, this speaker possesses the ability to to assist in such an endeavor.

    First Quatrain:  An Actor with Stage Fright

    As an unperfect actor on the stage
    Who with his fear is put beside his part,
    Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
    Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart;

    In the first quatrain, the speaker asserts that he is like a fearful actor on a stage who has difficulty with his lines because of stage fright, but he also resembles “some fierce thing” that is weakened because of rage.  

    He, as an actor in his own drama, is portraying the timidity and emotion that prevent him from expressing the love that he feels.  It is quite fitting that a playwright and theatre worker would use the metaphoric device of “actor” to portray his feelings.

    That the Shakespeare canon is most noted for the plays contained therein, it remains consistent that the speaker of the sonnets would often show a flare for the theatric, employing the stage, actors, and other theatre related terms in those sonnets, in which he is the main actor on his own created stage.

    Second Quatrain:   Fear Limits Ability to Move

    So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
    The perfect ceremony of love’s rite,
    And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay,  
    O’ercharg’d with burden of mine own love’s might.

    The speaker then asserts that for “fear of trust” he is unable to speak the necessary words for the “ceremony of love’s rite.”  He claims that the intensity of his love seems “to decay” under its own strength.  The reader will easily recognize the speaker’s predicament.  

    When emotion is strong, it sometimes limits logical responses.  Fear especially restricts the ability to act as one needs.  The speaker frames his claim, noting that his strong love overcomes that love’s own power.

    The desire to eliminate fear and frenzied emotion from one’s heart and mind is recognized as a major part of the human condition.  The many medicinal remedies such as tranquilizers attest to that recognition.  

    So do methods for producing calmness such as yoga and other physical and mental exercises.  The human mind remains abuzz with activity, which is quite natural and even useful and necessary, but an over-abundance of stimulation along with lack of relaxation brings on the opposite of natural progress.

    Third Quatrain:   Begging for the Muse to Intercede

    O! let my books be then the eloquence
    And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,
    Who plead for love, and look for recompense,
    More than that tongue that more hath more express’d.  

    The speaker’s humility in alleging that he has an inability to speak eloquently leads him to remark that the ability of the written word to speak may seem silent even as they reveal what is in his heart.  He is emphasizing the fact that in his deep heart his emotion weighs far more significantly than that which may be expressed by his tongue.

    Readers have already observed that “The Muse Sonnets” demonstrate the poet’s vital talent in composing poems; thus it remains not unusual for this speaker to address his talent asking it to assist him in overcoming his human flaws as he attempts to express his emotion.  

    Looking to one’s own God-given gifts must remain a part of each individual’s striving for equanimity and even on to perfection.  This speaker has long recognized that profound thinking is key to bringing him in touch with his inner world.

    The Couplet:  Begging Readers to Learn to Read 

    O! learn to read what silent love hath writ:
      To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit.

    In the couplet, the speaker addresses his future readers, admonishing them to educate their senses in order to discern what great poetry and other fine literature can offer.  He emphasizes his belief that love offers the best path to understanding.  

    His use of the concept of synesthesia in the phrase, “To hear with eyes,” produces the paradoxical nudge that engages his readers to learn to understand and to appreciate that fine qualities lead to the ability to live life on a higher plane, where pure joy replaces the profane and vulgar sense pleasures.

    By reading the speaker’s words, which portray a silent eloquence, the reader can enjoy his fine portrayals of love.  The speaker desires so much to express the love that is in his heart.

    Thus the speaker’s command to readers that they become skillful in reading poetry once again dramatizes the importance that this speaker places on his art and his certainty that his art will express his feelings, even if his physical tongue is overcome by his strong emotion.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 24 “Mine eye hath play’d the painter and hath stell’d”

    The speaker in sonnet 24 “Mine eye hath play’d the painter and hath stell’d” compares the art of poetry to the art of painting, revealing the importance of heartfelt love, not mere ornamentation, in the creation of art.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 24 “Mine eye hath play’d the painter and hath stell’d”

    The speaker in Shakespeare sonnet 24 “Mine eye hath play’d the painter and hath stell’d”from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence loves his art deeply; therefore, he not only employs it to express his emotions, but he also employs it to feel those emotions even more strongly.  

    This speaker appreciates his talent, which rewards him with a keen understanding of his own heart.  He disdains artists whose works remain superficial, speaking only about that which they can see and hear with the physical senses.

    This highly talented speaker lives a spiritual life, exploring not only the heart and mind, but also the soul.  It is, after all, the soul that offers the artist the greatest insights.  This sonneteer urges poets, painters, and other artists to live more deeply, more intensely seeking the inner life, in order to express more than decorated beauty.  

    Art sometimes is employed for merely decorative purposes, but works that become classics are always more consequential than those pieces used for superficial, cosmetic enhancement.

    Interestingly, graffiti artists even make searching attempts to elevate their art into more than just paint sprayed out across public entities.  They not only want to attract attention for themselves, but they also want to be known for some ideal that they hold dear or even some characteristic that they feel best represents them.  In that regard, those graffiti taggers have much in common with the Shakespeare bard, who cherished ideals above mere ornamentation.

    Sonnet 24 “Mine eye hath play’d the painter and hath stell’d”

    Mine eye hath play’d the painter and hath stell’d
    Thy beauty’s form in table of my heart;
    My body is the frame wherein ’tis held,
    And perspective it is best painter’s art.
    For through the painter must you see his skill,
    To find where your true image pictur’d lies,
    Which in my bosom’s shop is hanging still,
    That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes.
    Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:
    Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
    Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
    Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee;  
      Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art,
      They draw but what they see, know not the heart.

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    Commentary on “Mine eye hath play’d the painter and hath stell’d”

    The conjoining of the two art forms, painting and poetry, offers a whole new world of expression. The speaker in sonnet 24 “Mine eye hath play’d the painter and hath stell’d” compares the art of poetry to the art of painting, revealing the importance of heartfelt love in the creation of art.

    First Quatrain:  The Poetic Form

    Mine eye hath play’d the painter and hath stell’d
    Thy beauty’s form in table of my heart;
    My body is the frame wherein ’tis held,
    And perspective it is best painter’s art.

    In the first quatrain, addressing the sonnet itself, the speaker is informing his poem that like a painter he has captured the poem’s beautiful form and now keeps it locked in his heart.  With that image placed in the central location of the heart, his body functions as a picture “frame” to hold that form.

    The speaker further makes the claim that “perspective it is best painter’s art.”  This point of view reveals that the best artist has a deeply felt “perspective” or attitude toward his subject and that “perspective” or attitude is the force that propels his creativity.  

    Interestingly, the term “perspective” is also a technical term for the field of art; and while it is more often though of in terms of artists who paint, the same definition holds for any art form.  Any artist must work from some type of perspective.

    Second Quatrain:  Skill and Comprehension

    For through the painter must you see his skill,
    To find where your true image pictur’d lies,
    Which in my bosom’s shop is hanging still,
    That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes.

    Also continuing his comparison of the poet to the painter, the speaker insists that the viewer for, reader of, or audience to the artist can comprehend the artist’s creations only by taking note of “his skill.”  This speaker is inviting criticism of his art, and he portrays confidence that his skill can win over any audience.  

    This talented speaker not only knows that he has talent, but he also loves his talent and is grateful to the Divine Creator for granting him that gift. The speaker explains his position by insisting that his exalted purpose is to find the true, the good, and the beautiful by intuiting the very image that results from those sacred qualities.  

    In order to accomplish that feat and complete the discovery, the artist must realize that the creations are in the artist’s heart—at least the artist, whose eyes are cast lovingly upon his own works, as the speaker/poet insists his are.

    Third Quatrain:  Love of Art

    Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:
    Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
    Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
    Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee;  

    The speaker then reveals that the artist’s eyes can perceive marvelous creations when they are lovingly cast upon his works.  His works look back at him and reflect the love the artist feels for his creations.  

    Those works perform for the creative artist and do each other “good turns” because each is brightened by that love, as if beautiful images come dancing from the very sunbeams that brighten the day.  Those dancing images come to the intuitive eye of the artist and allow that artist to “gaze” upon them as he becomes amazed and inspired to create his best, truest art.

    The Couplet:  Art of the Profound

      Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art,
      They draw but what they see, know not the heart.

    This speaker demonstrates that he is interested in art that expresses more than mere superficialities.  He complains that too many intelligent poets, painters, and artists of all stripes merely offer decorated products that do little more than show off egotistically motivated urges.

    This creative speaker lives and breathes on a more spiritual level; thus he continues to insist on filling his own poetry with spiritual truths, truths that live in the deep heart, not merely on the surface. 

    This speaker urges poets to write from a depth of being, not simply parrot surface findings. He also urges painters to concentrate on more substantial fare than only to “draw what they see.” He is deeply in love with his art, and therefore he not only uses it to express his emotions, but he also uses it to feel them more abundantly and intensely.  

    The talented speaker lives deep inside of his talent, and his talent rewards him with a keen understanding of his own heart.  He aspires to a life greater than the sum of its part, and his reliance on art for elevation becomes more and more the vehicle for that upward artistic evolution.

    Shakespeare Sonnets 25 “Let those who are in favour with their stars”

    The speaker in sonnet 25 “Let those who are in favour with their stars” claims that only unconditional love is worth cherishing because love continues to give joy and gladness.  Again, the speaker is honoring his talent because the love he speaks of is not limited to that of another human being.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 25 “Let those who are in favour with their stars”

    Many of the poems in the subsequence—”The Muse Sonnets” 18–126—from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence address the poem directly, or speak about the happiness and enrichment the speaker derives from being able to compose such poems.  

    This speaker sincerely loves and cherishes his amazing talent, and he considers his achievement more important than the approval of any other human being.  Once again, the speaker is honoring his talent because the love he speaks of is not limited.

    The speaker in sonnet 25 “Let those who are in favour with their stars” is asserting that only unconditional love is worthy of one’s attention because fame and status are nothing but fleeting favors, while love will continue to give joy and gladness, along with the sustenance each human heart craves.

    Sonnet 25 “Let those who are in favour with their stars”

    Let those who are in favour with their stars
    Of public honour and proud titles boast,  
    Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars,
    Unlook’d for joy in that I honour most.
    Great princes’ favourites their fair leaves spread
    But as the marigold at the sun’s eye,
    And in themselves their pride lies buried,
    For at a frown they in their glory die.
    The painful warrior famoused for fight,
    After a thousand victories once foil’d,
    Is from the book of honour razed quite,  
    And all the rest forgot for which he toil’d:
      Then happy I, that love and am belov’d,  
      Where I may not remove nor be remov’d.

    Original Text   

    Better Reading   

    Commentary on Sonnet 25 “Let those who are in favour with their stars”

    The speaker in sonnet 25 “Let those who are in favour with their stars” is exploring the nature of unconditional love, admonishing his true self of the flighty nature of fame and status in the eyes of humanity.  He cherishes the true and the permanent, and he has become aware that his talent remains the font from which flows much joy, gladness, and contentment.

    First Quatrain:  High Regard Personally

    Let those who are in favour with their stars
    Of public honour and proud titles boast,  
    Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars,
    Unlook’d for joy in that I honour most.

    In the first quatrain, the speaker states that those famously honored by the public may “boast” of their accomplishments, while he, who has attained no such exalted status, will remain inconspicuous as he continues to enjoy that which he personally holds in high regard.  

    At this point, readers will understand that they are not yet made privy to what the speaker treasures above name and fame, and they may suspect that they must wait until the couplet to find out what it is.

    One might argue that the speaker is also “boasting” as he makes his own humble situation sound more attractive than those famous ones who garner public attention. They have their “proud titles” while he delights in what he implies is something more substantial.

    This versatile artist/speaker, even as he seems to elevate his own status, has the remarkable ability to make his claims so substantial that they transpire to truthfulness, and that truth erases the possibility of mere hubris.  This speaker, unlike poetasters and other charlatans, can express his abilities without sounding like an exaggerating buffoon.

    Second Quatrain:  Humility Wins

    Great princes’ favourites their fair leaves spread
    But as the marigold at the sun’s eye,
    And in themselves their pride lies buried,
    For at a frown they in their glory die.

    Even favored celebrities rewarded and regaled by royalty hold a position no higher than a simple flower such as the marigold, which has the attention of the sun, but without that attention, the flower shrivels up and dies.  

    And when the fame wears off and the “princes” no longer look favorably upon those famed individuals, their “glory” simply dies, as the glory and beauty of the marigold does.

    The true poet who captures the experiences of genuine relationships and colorfully and faithfully dramatizes them in his little poems will always find an audience to cherish the insights of the genuine for accurately giving them back their experiences.  

    Only dullard, doltish minds will continue to follow the poetasters and fakes; only those who are divorced from their own reality will glom onto that which will eventually dry up and blow away.

    Third Quatrain:   Twin Fickle Partners—Fame and Favor

    The painful warrior famoused for fight,
    After a thousand victories once foil’d,
    Is from the book of honour razed quite,  
    And all the rest forgot for which he toil’d:

    The third quatrain finds the speaker offering yet a further description of those twin fickle partners—fame and favor.  Even battle-scarred formerly winning warriors continue to be afforded high regard only if they keep on winning.  If a loss comes to these hero-warriors, they lose their accolades and are “from the book of honour” deleted.

    The poor warrior’s “thousand victories” then are not enough to keep him in high regard, so he has toiled in vain in this speaker’s opinion.  The speaker wants the reader/listener to see that trying to elevate one’s self by deeds that win the attention of others is a vain activity.

    The fact that widespread favorable attention remains an illusion is a fundamental principle that every artist of any stripe—poet, playwright, photographer, painter, sculptor—needs to take to heart.  Fooling the public has never been more than a fool’s errand, even if at first that fooling seems to be taking hold.   Only the true, the genuine, and the real have any hopes of becoming classics in their fields.

    The Couplet:  Vain Strivings

      Then happy I, that love and am belov’d,  
      Where I may not remove nor be remov’d.

    The speaker implies that the great warriors, politicians, and others who rely on the good will of authorities and the public can have their vain strivings.  For him, he is happy because of love:  he is made happy by being able to love and to be loved.  He honors unconditional love, which “may not remove or be remov’d.”

    And the place where this speaker’s unconditional love finds its ground and movement is in his art.  His poems receive his love and reflect it back permanently and without condition.

    This speaker’s art remains his primary focus, as he continues to muse, to analyze, and to consider the world and all the players who enter and exit the stage of life.  His focus is less a philosophy than a way of life.  

    He practices his art faithfully, and as some of his sonnets also attest, when he fails to live up to his own notion of what devotion means, he suffers mightily until he has corrected that failure. Such dedication can arise out of and progress only through unconditional love.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 26 “Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage”

    The speaker in sonnet 26 “Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage” acknowledges his duty to write poems.  His talent is his Lord because it is God-given, and he promises to perform his duty without becoming boastful.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 26 “Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage”

    The speaker in sonnet 26 “Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence is recognizing the importance of his artist ability as he assumes his duty to write poems.  He accepts the burden that his singular talent places upon him, and he assures his muse that he will continue to accept and perform his duty without becoming a braggart. 

    This speaker realizes that his talent is divinely inspired, and it remains a precious gift that he must practice, in order to keep it new and viable.  The speaker considers his muse an envoy from the Divine Creator.  He takes his mission very seriously as he promises to respect and honor his Creator.

    Artists, even those of the atheist persuasion, intuit the divine essence that prompts their ability to perform their particular art form.  Even without realizing the divinity of such a force, the artist is motivated and constrained to perform to the best of his ability. 

    That some poets become poetasters simply demonstrates that they have listened too closely to their own selfish motives rather than delving deep into the true Self for the light and spirit that moves each soul.

    Sonnet 26 “Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage”

    Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage  
    Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit,
    To thee I send this written ambassage,
    To witness duty, not to show my wit:
    Duty so great, which wit so poor as mine
    May make seem bare, in wanting words to show it,
    But that I hope some good conceit of thine
    In thy soul’s thought, all naked, will bestow it;
    Till whatsoever star that guides my moving
    Points on me graciously with fair aspect,
    And puts apparel on my tatter’d loving,
    To show me worthy of thy sweet respect:  
      Then may I dare to boast how I do love thee;
      Till then not show my head where thou mayst prove me.

    Original Text 

    Better Reading 

    Commentary on Sonnet 26 “Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage”

    The speaker in sonnet 26 “Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage” explores his duty as it relates to his ability to express through poetry; thus he acknowledges his duty to compose poems.  He has become aware that his talent is his “Lord,” and he promises to execute his dutiful writing tasks without becoming boastful.

    First Quatrain:  Addressing His Talent and Skill

    Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage  
    Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit,
    To thee I send this written ambassage,
    To witness duty, not to show my wit:

    The reader has surely observed in earlier sonnets that the speaker at times addresses his poems, and at other times he addresses his ability to write those poems.  In sonnet 26 “Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage,” it is the latter:  the speaker is addressing his talent as “Lord of my love.”  

    The first quatrain opens with the speaker telling his God-given talent that he is offering this poem to confirm his willing acceptance of the duty that his writing talent has placed upon him.  This speaker is not writing these quaint little verses merely to show off his intelligence, thereby puffing up his own ego. 

    Instead of mere ego grandstanding, this devoted speaker is writing because he recognizes his true calling, which acts, in effect, as a duty that his significant talent demands from him.  He appears to abide by the Biblical injunction, “For unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required” (KJV, Luke 12:48).

    Second Quatrain:  No Special Intelligence

    Duty so great, which wit so poor as mine
    May make seem bare, in wanting words to show it,
    But that I hope some good conceit of thine
    In thy soul’s thought, all naked, will bestow it;

    The speaker admits humbly that he has no special intelligence; as a matter of fact, he claims his “wit” is “poor.”  And compared to the great duty imposed upon him by his talent in creating verse, his wit seems “bare.”   But the speaker invokes the presence of this spiritual gift in hopes that its “good conceit” will inspire him to create despite his lacking “words to show it.”  

    The speaker refers to “thy soul’s thought” as being “all naked” which indicates that the very heart of the living presence that bestows his talent is not dressed up with material colors and textures but, instead, is pure because it is unadorned.  

    The speaker’s humble invocation resembles a prayer as he supplicates for guidance in using his talent for pure purposes.   Also, as the reader has seen before, the speaker professes that his talent and his love are identical.  

    Therefore, that he addresses his God-given talent as “Lord of my love” becomes even more understandable as it remains formed out of the inner strife and searching that lead to keen attention to all things physical as well as spiritual.

    Third Quatrain:  Remaining Humble

    Till whatsoever star that guides my moving
    Points on me graciously with fair aspect,
    And puts apparel on my tatter’d loving,
    To show me worthy of thy sweet respect:  

    After calling for divine direction, the speaker then submits that he will need such guidance until he can safely maneuver without it or until the force that moves him along can also afford him the quality of respect that he deserves.

    The speaker strives to remain utterly humble, never taking credit alone for his creations.  Instead of his own hand, he credits his “star” with clothing his deep but imperfect love.  And he realizes that this bestowal will eventually render him “worthy” to receive the “respect” he hopes to enjoy.

    Even though the speaker acknowledges that he has this writing talent, he can never feel that he alone is the creator.  As he quietly and surreptitiously avers that his talent comes from the Divine Spirit or God, he never overtly names God, but does name God’s divine agents such as the stars.  

    The ability to cognize the divine essence in creation remains one of the mainstays of artistic talent; otherwise, the creations of the artist fail to present beauty and truth, and instead, their monstrosities reveal the inner turmoil of selfishness and often become mere exaggerations in didacticism.

    The Couplet:  Divine Grace and Guidance

      Then may I dare to boast how I do love thee;
      Till then not show my head where thou mayst prove me.

    After the speaker has been the beneficiary of God’s grace and guidance and through the divine maneuvering of the stars, if he can show himself “worthy of [God’s] sweet respect,” then he may boast to the world of his love of Spirit that has invested in him a special talent.   

    But until such a time as the speaker can display perfectly his divine gift, he will not “show [his] head.”  For so doing, he would open himself to divine retribution, if he were wrong.

    The speaker remains humble despite the weight of his profound understanding.  Although he knows his talent is considerably abundant, he has no desire to flaunt his ability merely for selfish aggrandizement.  

    As he remains humble, his poetic output will remain on a steady path that will lead him to his goal of complete realization, and even though he will never know how widespread his works might have traveled, he can be assured that in composing those works, he has always performed to the best of his ability.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 27 “Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed”

    Sonnet 27 “Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed” presents a little drama that exemplifies the depth of the speaker’s dedication to his art—though exhausted from a hard day’s physical labor, as he tries to fall sleep, his mind is wide-awake thinking about and planning the details of his next poem.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 27 “Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed”

    In sonnet 27 “Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed” from the thematic group “The Muse Sonnets” in the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker creates a little drama to show the depth of his dedication to writing his sonnets.  During the day, he works, goes on journeys, and toils at his writing labors.  

    And then at nighttime, when it is time to rest his tired physical encasement (body), the speaker discovers that he continues to envision the next poem.  His mind has become so used to working on poems that he can almost accomplish the task in his sleep—or at least, in the moments before he actually drops off to sleep.

    Sonnet 27 “Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed”

    Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed
    The dear repose for limbs with travel tired;
    But then begins a journey in my head
    To work my mind, when body’s work’s expir’d:
    For then my thoughts—from far where I abide—
    Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
    And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,
    Looking on darkness which the blind do see:
    Save that my soul’s imaginary sight
    Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,
    Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night,
    Makes black night beauteous and her old face new.
    Lo! thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind,
    For thee, and for myself no quiet find.

    Original Text 

    Better Reading   

    Commentary on Sonnet 27 “Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed”

    In Muse sonnet 27, the speaker discovers that even when he is exhausted from a hard day’s work, his mind continues to plan and plot the outlines of his next poem.  The speaker has become addicted to writing sonnets; he likely envisions a huge collection of these fascinating little dramas, which he looks forward to completing.

    First Quatrain:  Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

    Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed
    The dear repose for limbs with travel tired;
    But then begins a journey in my head
    To work my mind, when body’s work’s expir’d:

    In the first quatrain, the speaker reports that after becoming very tired from much work, he hurries to bed to get some much-needed rest for his weary body, but then his mind becomes very active.  He has become tired from not only work, but also from travel, which in the 16th   century was quite arduous. 

    But getting himself to bed merely causes him to go on another journey, “a journey in [his] head.”  Although he is trying to rest his body after his physical labor and travel are finished, he seems to have to continue his labors mentally.

    This struggle with insomnia caused by a busy mind has not only affected poets and other creative types but also because of that struggle, a multi-billion dollar industry has arisen offering pills of every shape, color, and size that continues to be peddled by the pharmaceutical establishment claiming to assist the sleep deprived in falling asleep.  

    This sixteenth century insomniac chooses to blame his failure to fall asleep on the promptings of his voracious art.  It will be noted that this clever speaker can turn any adversity to his advantage, as he explores the issues of his life to gather material for his poetry and theatrical dramas.

    Second Quatrain:  Wondering Thoughts

    For then my thoughts—from far where I abide—
    Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
    And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,
    Looking on darkness which the blind do see:

    The speaker then addresses some entity, saying that his mind has begun a “zealous pilgrimage to thee.”   At this point, the reader realizes that the addressee could be anyone or anything.

    So the question becomes, just whom is the speaker addressing?  Who is this person or thing that has captured the thoughts of the speaker, so that he is unable to rest his weary body, because of his busy mind?

    The addressee appears to remain far away from the speaker, as he claims, “from far where I abide.”  Although the speaker is tired and his eyelids are now “drooping,” his thoughts of the dear addressee cause him to remain unable to fall asleep. 

    Thus the speaker, though lying wide awake in bed in his totally dark room, keeps his eyes wide open, viewing only what “the blind do see,” as he begins to contemplate and muse on his next sonnet.  His addiction to creating his sonnets always leads him to that act, and now he is dramatizing how that act even invades his nighttime rest.

    Third Quatrain:  The Next Poem

    Save that my soul’s imaginary sight
    Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,
    Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night,
    Makes black night beauteous and her old face new.

    In the third quatrain, the nature of the addressee becomes clear:  the speaker is again addressing his poetry, and probably more specifically, his next poem.  His physical eyes see only the blackness of night, but his inner eye sees the filmy outline of the next creation that has already begun to burn its image within that inner eye. 

    He colorfully and accurately labels that vision, the “soul’s imaginary sight.” It is his soul that sees the perfect image of his next poem, and that vision “like a jewel” lights the darkness of his physical eyes.  Those physical eyes act as a slate upon whose blackness the “beauteous” image with a new face is then fashioned out of the old one.

    This speaker’s audience has witnessed his adoration and devotion to his art many times before in this particular thematic group of sonnets (18-126), and in this one that devotion is once again dramatized. The speaker refers to his next poem’s presence as a “shadow” which seems to become a positive image when seen against his “sightless view.”  

    His devotion to composing continues in his mind, even after he is physically exhausted and is lying down to rest.  His busy, ever-seeking mind will not allow him to abandon its creative search.

    The Couplet:  The Laboring Mind

    Lo! thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind,
    For thee, and for myself no quiet find.

    The couplet confirms that the speaker is all consumed in his love and devotion to his art:  in the day time, he performs physical labor, writing and revising, traveling, toiling as he must to meet life’s duties and responsibilities.  

    But in the night time, even after a full day of physical labor, the speaker’s mind continues to labor in his devotion.   His talent is demanding, and because he has acquired the habit of living for his art, his mind naturally looks always for the shadow of the next poem.

    Anyone who has become accustomed to performing some belovèd act can identify with the speaker’s predicament in this sonnet.  Although some exaggeration is surely involved, each bout with sleeplessness ingrains the speaker’s dedication ever more securely on his journey of sonnet creation.  

    It, therefore, is likely that such dedication is never voluntary abandoned and whose eventual abandonment may be described as Emily Dickinson’s speaker so colorfully did when she declared, “Because I could not stop for death – / He kindly stopped for me.”  While the little sleep may continue to elude the speaker, he can be certain that the big sleep will not.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 28 “How can I then return in happy plight”

    The speaker in Shakespeare sonnet 28 “How can I then return in happy plight” is suffering from low inspiration and complaining that day and night seem to be conspiring to keep him from fulfilling his belovèd writing duties.  He is emphasizing that his mind is constantly focused on his issue.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 28 “How can I then return in happy plight”

    In sonnet 28 from the thematic group “The Muse Sonnets” in the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker is now addressing his muse.  He is becoming tired and weary, and his creativity appears to have stagnated:  he is suffering from low inspiration.  The speaker then complains that both day and night some strange force seems to be engaged in preventing him from producing his belovèd sonnet. 

    Because the speaker takes his duties and responsibilities very seriously, especially those duties related to his writing talent, he now seeks answers from the muse, who seems to be allowing his writing to remain blocked—a situation against which this speaker will continue to remonstrate as he progresses through this sequence.

    Sonnet 28 “How can I then return in happy plight”

    How can I then return in happy plight
    That am debarr’d the benefit of rest?
    When day’s oppression is not eas’d by night,
    But day by night, and night by day oppress’d,
    And each, though enemies to either’s reign,
    Do in consent shake hands to torture me,
    The one by toil, the other to complain
    How far I toil, still further off from thee.  
    I tell the day, to please him thou art bright
    And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven:
    So flatter I the swart-complexion’d night;
    When sparkling stars twire not thou gild’st the even.  
      But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,
      And night doth nightly make grief’s strength seem stronger.

    Original Text 

    Better Reading 

    Commentary on Sonnet 28 “How can I then return in happy plight”

    As the speaker continues to suffer the writer’s malady of low inspiration, he complains and bemoans his temporary impediment both day and night as it seems all the world is conspiring against him to keep him from fulfilling his beloved writing duties.

    First Quatrain:  Questioning His Muse

    How can I then return in happy plight
    That am debarr’d the benefit of rest?
    When day’s oppression is not eas’d by night,
    But day by night, and night by day oppress’d

    In the first quatrain, the speaker questions his muse, wondering how he can ever be happy again.  He cannot refresh himself, because he cannot sleep.  His beloved muse seems to have abandoned him.  During the day, he is oppressed, and then during the night he still remains oppressed. 

    He is unable to write during the day, and then at night he worries about not being able to write.   This speaker usually remains so confident in his abilities, but as all creative individuals do, he is suffering a period of inspirational dryness.

    Nothing seems to work to call forth joy and creativity from his heart and mind.  He will not settle for writing trivialities.  And this dedicated speaker/poet knows well that he could still pound out drivel, but he remains dedicated to revealing only the best in his heart and mind, and he knows his little dramas must always demonstrate the high quality of art that he demands of himself.

    Second Quatrain:  Keeping Separate Kingdoms

    And each, though enemies to either’s reign,
    Do in consent shake hands to torture me,
    The one by toil, the other to complain
    How far I toil, still further off from thee.  

    Day and night keep separate kingdoms and seem to have little to do with each other, but now during the writer’s time of dryness and emptiness, it seems that day and night both conspire to keep him in a state of “torture.”  

    The speaker toils by day—tries his best to overcome his block, and then by night he also toils by complaining how much he toiled during the day; yet all of this toiling does not bring the speaker closer to enjoying and fulfilling his beloved accomplishments—his talent, and his creation of poetry.  He remains, “still further off from thee.” 

    Notice that the speaker uses the term “further” rather than “farther.”  The speaker employs the term “further” to indicate that he is not referring to distance in physical miles. 

    Such a word choice is one of the many indicators that this thematic group “The Muse Sonnets” does not contain any references to people, let alone a “fair youth.”  “Farther” would indicate distance from a person, but “further” indicates a distance only in the speaker’s mind/heart/soul.

    The speaker is not traveling on a journey which is separating him from another person.  He is merely cut off temporarily from his God-given talent, represented by his muse, by a period of low inspiration which resembles spiritual dryness.  

    It seems that both night and day are conspiring to keep him weary and inhibit his creative juices from flowing:  each succeeding day adds an additional or “further” veil of separation from his adored duty to write his sonnets.

    Readers will be quick to notice that even when this speaker is complaining about something as mundane as writer’s block, he is still creating high quality little dramas.  His masterful command of language and skill in creating scenarios remains intact even as he wends his way through periods of dryness.  He does, in fact, make lemonade from the lemons that he is often handed.

    Third Quatrain:  Coaxing Daylight

    I tell the day, to please him thou art bright
    And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven:
    So flatter I the swart-complexion’d night;
    When sparkling stars twire not thou gild’st the even.

    The speaker tries to coax day to let him create by telling day that his poet creations are also “bright” and can actually brighten up day’s domain when there are clouds blocking the sun.    And the speaker then “flatter[s]” the god of night by telling the “swart-complexion’d” one that his poetry can light up the heavens when the stars are not visible. 

    The speaker uses the term “twire” which means twinkle but also in the Shakespearean time period meant “to sing.”  His poems, he avers, can sing for the stars, if night time will only relent and let him rest. The speaker’s clever thinking never fails him as he never fails to persevere.  His relentless pursuit of his goal keeps him ever steadfast on his journey of creativity.

    The Couplet:  Cajoling the Gods

    But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,
    And night doth nightly make grief’s strength seem stronger.

    But no matter how intensely the speaker cajoles the gods of day and night, day seems to make his life ever more sorrowful, and night makes his grief even heavier.  During the day, he remains focused on his negative situation which makes his “sorrow” grow; then after nighttime covers the landscape, those sorrows grow from the simple melancholy that darkness brings both literally and symbolically.

    By repeating significant terms, such as “”day doth daily” and “night doth nightly,” the speaker places emphasis on his claim that both day and night find him in dire straits.  His challenge of employing terms in their varied forms alerts the reader that this speaker has thought deeply about his issues, has worked diligently to address them, and ultimately he has succeeded in his venture.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 29 “When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes”

    This super-human talented speaker, being quite human, sometimes suffers feelings of defeat, but when he thinks about his poetry, he realizes how fortunate he is to have such a talent and to be able to create the little dramas that grace his life and the lives of those who read his works.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 29 “When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes”

    The speaker in the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence always remains down to earth and never boasts about his considerable talents for poetry creating.  At times, the talented scribbler, however, finds himself dismayed by his lot and especially about what others may think of him.  

    It is during those melancholy periods that the speaker garners much satisfaction from his ability to create lovely sonnets.  Thus he comes to acknowledge how fortunate he is to possess such a prepossessing talent.

    In Muse sonnet 29 “When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,” the speaker explores the contrast between the dark moods that sometimes afflict him.  When he places his mind on the negative aspects of critical and financial burdens, he becomes a victim of that darkness of mood.  But then after he removes his mind from that darkness, a special light flips on, and he becomes cognizant that his own position in life is better than that of “kings.”

    Sonnet 29 “When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes”

    When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes
    I all alone beweep my outcast state,
    And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
    And look upon myself, and curse my fate,
    Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
    Featur’d like him, like him with friends possess’d,
    Desiring this man’s art, and that man’s scope,
    With what I most enjoy contented least;  
    Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,  
    Haply I think on thee,—and then my state,
    Like to the lark at break of day arising
    From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate;
      For thy sweet love remember’d such wealth brings
      That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

    Original Text 

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    Commentary on Sonnet 29 “When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes”

    The speaker is affirming his considerable talent, offering something of a benediction for having been afforded the ability to create his works of art.  And although he may suffer outward defeat among society’s critics, he knows he can retain mental equanimity because of his creative abilities.

    First Quatrain:   Sometimes He Experiences Difficulties

    When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes
    I all alone beweep my outcast state,
    And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
    And look upon myself, and curse my fate

    In the first quatrain of Shakespeare sonnet 29 “When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,” the speaker admits that there are times in his life when things are not going well, times when he thinks he is being disparaged and disgraced by others.  

    He admits to feelings of despair at such times and that he even cries like an outcast victim, while whining and cursing his low estate.  It does him no good, but he, at times, continues to complain and bother “heaven” with his worthless petitions.  

    The form that this speaker uses in this sonnet is the “when/then” construction, in which the “when clause” indicates a situation followed by another happening, or “when this happens, then that happens.”  This construction is one of the speaker’s favorites, for it allows him to create drama through cause and effect. 

    Because narratives both long and short hinge on the “what happens next” phenomenon, the when/then construction offers that flavor to any piece that depends on movement through time and space.  

    This sonnet construction thus offers the speaker the opportunity to place before the reader/listener a prevailing situation and then speculate or even cause to eventuate the later outcome.

    Second Quatrain:   Sometimes He Feels Cursed and Hopeless

    Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
    Featur’d like him, like him with friends possess’d,
    Desiring this man’s art, and that man’s scope,
    With what I most enjoy contented least 

    The second quatrain continues the “when” clause but further describes the speaker’s discontent.  When he finds himself feeling cursed and outcast, he might wish he were like some other man, particularly like those who appear to have more “hope” than he does.  

    But he adds that he might also prefer to be as handsome as some other men, or have better, friendlier friends.  He continues to make such contrasts by claiming that he might also wish he could create like some other creative men and also possess the same level of understanding that others possess.

    All of this wasted envy of others, however, causes the speaker to disdain the very things he loves most; he finds himself less content with all things he loves because of his negative attitude.  

    He realizes that he has become negligent and oblivious, even failing to find joy in the things in his life that usually make him happy, all because of his falling into unhealthy, bitter views of his own situation.  He has failed to sustain the gratitude he needs to remain productive, creative, and observant of life-sustaining qualities.

    Third Quatrain:  Poetry Rescues His Vagrant Thoughts

    Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
    Haply I think on thee,—and then my state,
    Like to the lark at break of day arising
    From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate

    When the speaker is feeling cursed and outcast by others and wishing he were more like those who are more acceptable, and these thoughts are making him “almost” hate himself, he then asserts that he has a life-line that brings him back from all of his dark moods that have hindered his perceptions.  

    And that life-line is his poetry.  He simply remembers the profound influence that his poetry has on his life—and suddenly his state of mind becomes transformed.   That transformation causes his mood to brighten, and he suddenly receives a visitation by the beautiful image of a “lark” soaring into the sky at daybreak.  

    The bird has suddenly risen from the “sullen earth” and now is singing at the door of heaven.  The speaker has quite appropriately likened his feeling to the bird that is known for its singing.  

    In this group of sonnets, the speaker consistently celebrates his art, his creation of poems in terms of songs—so appropriate because the term “sonnet” translates as “little song” from the Italian “sonetto.”  

    The Couplet:   Art Lifts His Spirits

    For thy sweet love remember’d such wealth brings
    That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

    The speaker has invested so much love and affection in his own art that it can be only  that art that lifts his spirits when he becomes depressed with worldly activity.   The speaker’s ability to craft polished sonnets lifts him from the doldrums, and it heralds his realization that he is better off than royalty because of that art.   

    After the speaker finally remembers his cherished poetry, he realizes that he is in a better position than that of royalty.  His considerable talent elevates his mind and heart to a status of importance that he would not trade for any kingdom.  

    He becomes elated with all that lives within his own abilities.  In sonnet 29 “When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,” the speaker moves from a sorrowfully depressed state of negativity to one of joy and profound positivity.  

    After confessing that sometimes finds himself in moods that are so dark that he whines and cries and bemoans his lot and then contrasting despairingly his lot with others, he then simply withdraws his mind from those trivialities, places it upon his own talent, his muse, and his creative works, and suddenly his dark mood is erased and brightened and begins to soar to heavenly realms like a song-bird rising from the mud ball of earth.


    Shakespeare Sonnet 30 “When to the sessions of sweet silent thought”

    Shakespeare sonnet 30 “When to the sessions of sweet silent thought” is one of “The Muse Sonnets,” mistakenly thought to be addressed to a young man; however, no person is ever addressed in this group.  The  “dear friend” in the couplet does not refer to a person but to the speaker’s talent. 

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 30 “When to the sessions of sweet silent thought”

    In sonnet 30 “When to the sessions of sweet silent thought” from the thematic group, “The Muse Sonnets,” in the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker is dramatizing the simple idea that despite all of the sorrow and lack he has experienced in his life, the one thing he can count on to restore “all losses” and end his sorrow is his dear friend, his ability to write poems.  

    Sonnet 30 “When to the sessions of sweet silent thought” belongs to the thematic group that is mistakenly thought to be addressed to a young man and has been mislabeled “The Fair Youth Sonnets.”  However, no young man appears in any of the sonnets in this group. No other person at all appears in anyt of sonnets in this group.  

    The speaker muses only on his poems and his ability to compose them; thus subsequence “The Muse Sonnets” offers a more accurate label for this thematic group.  The “dear friend” he is addressing in this sonnet is his talent, his ability to write sonnets.  That ability is truly the speaker’s best and dearest friend, as he makes clear repeatedly in this thematic group.

    Sonnet 30 “When to the sessions of sweet silent thought”

    When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
    I summon up remembrance of things past,
    I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
    And with old woes new wail my dear times’ waste:
    Then can I drown an eye, unus’d to flow,
    For precious friends hid in death’s dateless night,
    And weep afresh love’s long since cancell’d woe,
    And moan the expense of many a vanish’d sight:
    Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
    And heavily from woe to woe tell o’er
    The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
    Which I new pay as if not paid before.
      But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
      All losses are restor’d and sorrows end.

    Original Text 

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    Commentary on Sonnet 30 “When to the sessions of sweet silent thought”

    Indulging the “when-then” construction again, the speaker is addressing his talent—his ability to write soul inspiring poems—claiming that often it is only this talent in producing his creative writing that can lift his spirits after he has suffered dark moods from enduring the world’s indignities.

    First Quatrain:  When-Then

    When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
    I summon up remembrance of things past,
    I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
    And with old woes new wail my dear times’ waste

    Shakespeare sonnet 30 “When to the sessions of sweet silent thought” plays out within the “when-then” structure as many of the sonnets do.  The speaker asserts that whenone event occurs, “then” a second event will follow.   

    In this sonnet’s first stanza, the speaker’s when-clause dramatizes his thinking back to his earlier life. A rough paraphrase might read, “when I think of things that happened in the past as I muse in times of lovely silence . . . . “

    This colorfully described occasion of “sessions of sweet silent thought” refers to the times during which he is musing on writing a poem.   When such a musing session happens to lead him to thoughts of sadness and loss, he “sigh[s]” at what he was unable to accomplish or at what he was unable to attain, and he bemoans his wasted time in certain pursuits.

    Again, the reader will have noted that the when-then structure seems to be a favorite of this poet for placing dramatic words in the mouths of his speakers.  A fascinating study might result from concentration on the several sonnets that employ the when-then construction.  

    Because any dramatic narrative short or long depends on the phenomenon—”what happens next?”—the when-then construction offers the mini-stage for that phenomenon to play out.  

    As soon as readers/listeners are confronted with a “when” clause, they know that they are being set up for the “then” part, which answers the question “what happens next?” concocted in the “when” clause.

    Second Quatrain:  Sad Memories

    Then can I drown an eye, unus’d to flow,
    For precious friends hid in death’s dateless night,
    And weep afresh love’s long since cancell’d woe,
    And moan the expense of many a vanish’d sight

    Such sad memories cause the speaker to cry a flood of tears, and he goes on to remember friends who have died, and old lost loves who made him sorrowful, but long since he had forgotten.   Still, these memories, when they attend the speaker during a session “of sweet silent thought,” lay heavy on his heart, and he suffers anew as if the sorrow had just begun. 

    Even though the speaker had overcome the sorrow, and his tears were “unus’d to flow,” the memories can become so vivid that they overtake his composure, and his tears rush freely down cheeks that had long remained dry and stalwart against pain.

    As mentioned earlier, there are no people in this thematic group of  sonnets; the mere mention of “precious friends hid in death’s dateless night” remains just a mention.  The speaker is not addressing those people.  He is not even emphasizing their existence; his mention of them actually emphasizes their absence.  

    Thus the statement that there are no persons in any of this thematic group remains accurate—perhaps with the proviso that with the exception of mere mentions offered to emphasize other phenomena, for example, in this sonnet’s case, the absence of those “friends.”

    Third Quatrain:  Heavy Grief

    Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
    And heavily from woe to woe tell o’er
    The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
    Which I new pay as if not paid before.

    The speaker’s past grief becomes so heavy that he has the ability to take account of it as if the grief were newly minted.  He has the ability to shape in it a poem to narrate again his sorrowful report.  He can retell the sad story to make it so real that others can experience it in his poems. 

    The speaker possesses great confidence in his knowledge of his own heart and his ability to create art out of the material of his grief.  This talented speaker’s memories provide the material, and his mind and genius for writing allow him to capture his emotion in sturdy strings of language.

    The Couplet:  Removing Pain

     But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
      All losses are restor’d and sorrows end.

    Despite the fact that the speaker’s sorrows are deep and wield his strength to tears, and the lack he has suffered makes him doubt some of his past choices, all he has to do to recover is remember that his God-given gift of poetic genius is enough to remove all pain and sorrow.  The speaker thinks of his ability to compose as a “dear friend.” 

    The speaker’s reliance on his God-given talent remains a strong feature in this set of sonnets.  He repeatedly demonstrates that he knows he is a great poet; he is aware of his considerable gifts in dreaming up scenarios and then capturing and stationing just the right word in just the right place to allow those precious thoughts and images to dance and sing in his little songs.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 31 “Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts”

    In Shakespeare sonnet 31 “Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts,” the speaker is dramatizing the importance and function of his poetry:  through his creative writing talent, his friends and lovers whom he thought dead remain alive in his poem.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 31 “Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts”

    The notion of keeping loved ones alive is an old one.  Many folks believe that they keep them alive only in their memory or in relics that belonged to beloved ones who have passed on.  

    The poetic conceit of keeping ones love alive in poetry is also an old one.  Poets have long argued that the poem is not merely a piece of discourse, but it is a place where abstract qualities can become concrete realities.  Emotions can be personified and walk and talk as a man or a woman.  The limit to such dramatic creation is only the sky and the poet’s ability to fashion those dramas.  

    This speaker happens to be one of those rare poets who has been gifted with the mental and spiritual power to create the kind of poetry in which he can keep his loved ones alive and continue to enjoy communing with them as long as he lives.

    In sonnet 31 from the thematic subsequence “The Muse Sonnets” in the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker-poet is dramatizing this important function of his poetry.  He is able to place his friends and lovers in his poems and thereby keep them alive.   

    As the reader has discovered before in this sonnet sequence, the speaker is once again touting the power and magic that his ability to compose brilliantly and successfully to bring his loves into his life.

    Sonnet 31 “Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts”

    Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts
    Which I by lacking have supposed dead;
    And there reigns Love, and all Love’s loving parts,
    And all those friends which I thought buried.
    How many a holy and obsequious tear
    Hath dear religious love stol’n from mine eye,
    As interest of the dead, which now appear
    But things remov’d that hidden in thee lie!
    Thou art the grave where buried love doth live,
    Hung with the trophies of my lovers gone,
    Who all their parts of me to thee did give,
    That due of many now is thine alone:
    Their images I lov’d I view in thee,
    And thou—all they—hast all the all of me.

    Original Text 

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    Commentary on Sonnet 31:“Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts”

    Dramatizing through the age-old notion of keeping friends and lovers alive in poetry, the speaker-poet is engaging his talent to make his memories vibrant and sturdy regarding loved ones who have passed on.  Again, the speaker places emphasis on the act of creating, not the actual people for whom he is creating.

    First Quatrain:  Addressing His Poems

    Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts
    Which I by lacking have supposed dead;
    And there reigns Love, and all Love’s loving parts,
    And all those friends which I thought buried.

    In the first quatrain, the speaker is addressing his art, his poetry, telling the poem that it holds all of the former loves of his life, and even though he has thought them gone, they indeed continue to live on in his poems.  

    All of his friends whom he has cherished continue to live because they continue to remain vibrant in his poems through the love he possesses for them.   In his poems, he can create a special place where his dear ones will exist forever.  

    He has found charm in his own ability to create his little dramas.  And his sonnet sequence shines forth from the poet’s ability to remain focused and dedicated to creating insightful art.

    Second Quatrain:  Tears over False Notions

    How many a holy and obsequious tear
    Hath dear religious love stol’n from mine eye,
    As interest of the dead, which now appear
    But things remov’d that hidden in thee lie!

    The speaker has shed many tears because of the false notion that his dear ones had disappeared.  He is now emphasizing the importance of the tears by labeling them “holy and obsequious.”  

    The speaker had cried, out of duty as much as out of sorrow, because the dead seem to call forth passion and intensity from hearts.  But the speaker now realizes that the passion and intensity are only “hidden in thee,” that is, they are quietly immortalized in his poetry.

    The speaker as a poet with ability to create will never find a limit to his talent, and that talent could not be better employed than in developing a permanent locus where he can return repeatedly to enjoy the company of those beloved souls.  He also is projecting into the future at a time when after his own demise, other souls may have the advantage of his experience.

    Third Quatrain:   A Metaphorical Grave

    Thou art the grave where buried love doth live,
    Hung with the trophies of my lovers gone,
    Who all their parts of me to thee did give,
    That due of many now is thine alone:
    Their images I lov’d I view in thee,
    And thou—all they—hast all the all of me.

    The speaker is metaphorically comparing his poetry to a grave, “where buried love doth live.”  However, ironically, instead of simply reclining forever in the cold ground that seemingly buried love instead “doth live.”   

    The speaker’s talent has the magical ability to keep his love alive in his poetry.  He cherishes this function of his talent.  He once again is showing how his blessed talent for composing sonnets has the power to give life to his most precious attributes. 

    Everything the speaker has gained from his lovers he continues to retain by capturing it all in his poems.  The poems are like a shelf that holds “the trophies of [his] lovers gone.”  

    And now, what he once owned of his former lovers belongs solely to the poems.   The speaker’s ability to create pieces of art enhances his life, and instead of bragging about his talent, he demonstrates his joy and passion by creating places that display the loves of his life.

    The Couplet:  Repository of Love

    Their images I lov’d I view in thee,
    And thou—all they—hast all the all of me.

    The couplet completes the thought and makes it even more abundantly clear: the speaker’s poems contain images of his lovers, and he can see them clearly anytime he chooses.  He has given his whole heart, mind, and soul to this art as  he creates his poems to serve as the repository of his love. 

    This speaker makes his intentions clear that he remains dedicated to truth, beauty, and love.  He insists in drama after drama that his interests keep his art informed and his own heart and mind on a steady beat of a lively rhythm of life.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 32 “If thou survive my well-contented day”

    In sonnet 32 “If thou survive my well-contented day,” the speaker waxes humbler than usual about his poems, even as he colorfully personifies a sonnet, giving it the ability to read.  He is musing on the future of his body of work, speculating about its ability to remain relevant in a changing world.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 32 “If thou survive my well-contented day”

    Shakespeare sonnet 32 “If thou survive my well-contented day” from the thematic group, “The Muse Sonnets,” in the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, personifies the sonnet, giving it the delicious power to read and understand the differences between form and content.  

    The speaker is speculating that if some better poet comes along and outperforms the speaker with his poetic prowess, the addressee, the personified sonnet, should read the poem for the speaker’s love and read the other poets for their skill.   This injunction placed on his addressee guarantees that his sonnets retain a high purpose:  the repository of his love.

    This speaker remains adamant that his works hold only the qualities of love, truth, and beauty.  While he hopes his works will be read by the following generations, he is more interested in making his works as true to his feelings and thinking as possible.    By addressing a personified sonnet and giving it the ability to read, he grounds himself in his own generation as he projects a possible failure into the future.

    Sonnet 32 “If thou survive my well-contented day”

    If thou survive my well-contented day
    When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover,
    And shalt by fortune once more re-survey
    These poor rude lines of thy deceased lover,
    Compare them with the bettering of the time,
    And though they be outstripp’d by every pen,
    Reserve them for my love, not for their rime,
    Exceeded by the height of happier men.
    O! then vouchsafe me but this loving thought:
    ‘Had my friend’s Muse grown with this growing age,
    A dearer birth than this his love had brought,
    To march in ranks of better equipage:
      But since he died, and poets better prove,
      Theirs for their style I’ll read, his for his love.’

    Original Text 

    Better Reading  

    Commentary on Sonnet 32 “If thou survive my well-contented day”

    In Shakespeare sonnet 32, the speaker seems to project a more humble position than usual about his poems as he addresses his loved one, a personified sonnet.

    First Quatrain:  Hypothetically Speaking

    If thou survive my well-contented day
    When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover,
    And shalt by fortune once more re-survey
    These poor rude lines of thy deceased lover

    The first two quatrains of Shakespeare sonnet 32 “If thou survive my well-contented day” are structured with if/then clauses:  the first quatrain presents a hypothetical and the second presents what should follow.  The “if” hypothetical is if his beloved sonnet should outlive him, and the “then” is that the personified sonnet should re-read his poems a certain way. 

    The speaker begins by referring to the day he dies as “my well-contented day” indicating that he will be accepting of his demise.  Still the poet/speaker calls death a “churl” and colorfully describes his post-death lot as his bones being dust covered.  The speaker refers to his poems as, “[t]hese poor rude lines,” and throughout the sonnet, seems to disparage his poetry.

    Second Quatrain:  Special Comparison/Contrast

    Compare them with the bettering of the time,
    And though they be outstripp’d by every pen,
    Reserve them for my love, not for their rime,
    Exceeded by the height of happier men.

    If the speaker’s belovèd sonnet should outlive him and also if the poem happens to re-read his poem, he wants it to compare them to the poems of others, but if they are not as well crafted as others, it should, “[r]eserve them for [his] love, not for their rime.”   

    The speaker asks the personified sonnet to remember that his poems contain his heart and soul, so each personified poem should consider that fact above its technical skill.  Such skill as this speaker’s might be bested by “happier men.”   But his personal love for his talent, writing ability, and the sonnets is retained in, “[t]hese rude lines of thy deceased lover.”

    The speaker’s love for his sonnets, indeed all of his varied canon, is declared in virtually every piece of composition.  He can even be seen fretting about his periods of writer’s block because of his obsession to write.  

    Such periods become monumental areas for discovery, however, because this speaker retains his great love for his ability, and he knows he will pull out of whatever doldrums that are bound to visit him for time to time.

    Third Quatrain:  Repetition of Love

    O! then vouchsafe me but this loving thought:
    ‘Had my friend’s Muse grown with this growing age,
    A dearer birth than this his love had brought,
    To march in ranks of better equipage:

    Then the speaker tells the lover-sonnet what to think, which takes up the rest of the poem, and instead of referring to the sonnet as a “lover,” he employs the term “friend.”    But what he tells his lover/friend is essentially a repetition.  

    The speaker wants the sonnet to have the opinion that if its poet/friend/lover had lived longer and his Muse had grown, his love poems could have been better and strong enough to compete “in ranks of better equipage.” 

    The speaker is focusing on a premature death for himself.  He believes that if he can live long enough, his talent will only grow stronger, but if he dies too soon, that talent will have remained at the same level he retains at the time he is now writing.  

    If he makes his sonnet/reader aware of certain inevitable facts, he is sure that when the sonnet reads his works in future, it will take into consideration the fact that if the speaker had lived longer, he would have improved in his ability to create his little dramas.

    The Couplet:  No Room for Improvement in Skill

     But since he died, and poets better prove,
      Theirs for their style I’ll read, his for his love.’

    However, because the poet/friend died, and now there are far better poets, the personified sonnet will read the better poets for their prowess, but he admonished the sonnet to read its friend’s poems “for his love.”  

    Truthfully, this poem’s skill may appear to denigrate his poems but in actuality, it once again lifts them to an extremely high position, as the poet covers himself lest, in fact, a better poet should come along after his departure from the earthly art scene.  

    The poem reveals not only the poet’s skill that he so cherishes, but it also unveils a definite prescience that his art will never have to face worry over being out-performed; his stature is safe, and he is sure of it.  

    He expects such to happen because of his genius in creating new, useful, entertaining, and enlightening scenarios filled with not only colorful language but also with language that holds profundities of which most artists remain incapable.

    Waxing Humble in the Face of Great Talent

    As the earlier explication of this group of sonnets has emphasized, most of these poems remain dedicated to a celebration of the poet’s poetic talent, and often the speaker actually addresses the poem itself, as this one also does.  

    The uniqueness of this sonnet is the personification of the sonnet itself.  He creates in the personified sonnet the ability to read, in order to admonish the poem to read his sonnets with a certain purpose.

    If the speaker is somehow outdone by the talent of stronger poets in the future, then the sonnet should read his poems only for the love they contain and then read other poets for their skill.  

    By creating such a unique situation, the sonneteer is virtually guaranteeing that he will never be “outstripp’d by [any] pen.”  This speaker likes to cover his talent against any eventuality with his many layers of metaphoric and often metaphysical prowess.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 33 “Full many a glorious morning have I seen

    Shakespeare sonnet 33 Full many a glorious morning have I seen offers an extended metaphor, dramatizing the phenomenon of clouds hiding the sun.  The sun represents the speaker’s muse; the clouds are lulls in inspiration.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 33 “Full many a glorious morning I have seen”

    Sonnet 33 “Full many a glorious morning I have seen” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence extends a metaphor of the sun and clouds, dramatizing the natural phenomenon of clouds as they hide the sun.

     It follows then that the sun represents the metaphoric equivalence of the speaker’s writing talent or muse, while the clouds stand for the periodic spells of dryness causing lulls in the writer’s inspiration.

    Writers refer to this period of dryness, this period in which they suffer the inability to create, as writer’s block. Yes, even the great poet of the “Shakespeare” brand did suffer such an indignity.  

    The way this writer meets the challenge of writing should give hope to all who struggle to spread words across a page and remind writers to use that flaw, to delve deep into it, for the Shakespeare writer managed to pen some of his best sonnets dramatizing that fact of a writer’s life.

    Sonnet 33 “Full many a glorious morning have I seen”

    Full many a glorious morning have I seen
    Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye,  
    Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
    Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy;
    Anon permit the basest clouds to ride
    With ugly rack on his celestial face,
    And from the forlorn world his visage hide,
    Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace:
    Even so my sun one early morn did shine,
    With all-triumphant splendour on my brow;
    But, out! alack! he was but one hour mine,
    The region cloud hath mask’d him from me now.
      Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth;
      Suns of the world may stain when heaven’s sun staineth.

    Original Text   

    Better Reading 

    Commentary on Sonnet 33 “Full many a glorious morning have I seen”

    The extended metaphor of sonnet 33 dramatizes clouds hiding the sun, with the sun representing the speaker’s writing talent or muse and the clouds representing the lulls in inspiration.

    First Quatrain:   The Sun

    Full many a glorious morning have I seen
    Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye,  
    Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
    Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 33, the speaker reports having seen the sun’s rays on a “glorious morning” when they “[f]latter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye.”  The morning is made glorious by the golden-rich light of the life-giving star.  

    The speaker has also watched as the sun “kiss[es] with golden face the meadows green.”  The kiss of the sun literally turns the meadows green, and on “pale streams,” the speaker has observed the sunlight “gilding [the streams] with heavenly alchemy.”  The sun’s rays seem to magically transform the water of a common brook into a celestial vision. 

    Such innovative terms as “heaven alchemy” reveal the creative thinking of the writer.  Even as he offers complaints, his mind remains engaged in extraordinary thinking.  Instead of giving in to melancholy, he keeps observing, rearranging, revisioning, and finally recreating ideas to turn them into golden metaphors.

    Second Quatrain:   Rays That Hide

    Anon permit the basest clouds to ride
    With ugly rack on his celestial face,
    And from the forlorn world his visage hide,
    Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace:

    However, as soon as the speaker has seen the wondrous marvels that the sun performs on earthly things, that same heroic orb allows “the basest clouds” to hide the glorious rays.   

    The sun allows those ugly clouds to keep its beautiful face hidden as it continues its movement across the day from east to west. The speaker adamantly compares the clouds negatively with the sun and even deems the fact that the sun permits itself to be hidden by such an “ugly rack” to be a “disgrace.”

    Of course, clouds do not always function in a disgraceful, ugly manner—only when they have the audacity to obliterate the marvel that is the sun.  The importance of sunlight on the earth renders the clouds a nuisance as they brazenly march across the face of the big star.  Any diminishment of the sunlight that has been deemed the contributor to a “glorious morning” can easily be condemned when garnered for dramatic effect.

    Third Quatrain:  A Brief Glimpse of Glory

    Even so my sun one early morn did shine,
    With all-triumphant splendour on my brow;
    But, out! alack! he was but one hour mine,
    The region cloud hath mask’d him from me now.

    In the third quatrain, the speaker asserts that one morning quite early the sun was shining all-gloriously on his very “brow,” and the first thing you know, another cloud came along and “mask’d” the wonderful rays from his face.   The speaker was allowed the glory of the sun on his face “but one hour.” 

    The speaker is dramatizing the wondrous feeling of the sun on his face, but then along comes another cloud to interfere with that sunbath.  The short period of time of only an hour was not enough time.  

    Remembering that the sun is the metaphor for his writing muse, the reader will realize that the speaker is saying that a burst of inspiration for writing was his for only an hour, and writers need much more time for musing on, contemplating, and then composing their creations.

    The Couplet:    A Pun for Sun

    Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth;
      Suns of the world may stain when heaven’s sun staineth.

    The speaker finally vows that despite its so easily giving in to hiding behind clouds, he loves the bright star no less and avers, “Suns of the world may stain when heaven’s sun staineth.”  The speaker is punning “suns” for “sons.”  Sons of the earth “stain” with ink on a page, if they are possessed of the talent with which the speaker is so abundantly possessed.  

    Therefore, those with talent enough are like the sun; even as they suffer low periods of inspiration, they continue to be as inspired as the sun does continue to shine despite the clouds. Regardless of whether the sun’s rays are visible to those on earth, the sun continues to influence all living creatures and all phenomena such as mountain-tops, meadows, and streams.

    The Sun as Metaphor

    Sonnet 33 “Full many a glorious morning have I seen” is highly metaphorical; it is, in fact, an extended metaphor.  The sun is metaphorically compared to the artist’s talent or muse.  Clouds dramatize the periods of dryness of inspiration to compose.  

    The poet then is able to realize that in spite of the lulls, his talent, like the sun, remains always with him and is always motivating him to keep that being in him, recognized as the artist, and the artist’s love alive and well functioning.

    This speaker demonstrates the learning process included in his musing.  He will begin with a conundrum, often including a complaint; he will then offer  observations along with explanations that he finally puts together, forming a valid conclusion.  

    This thinking process follows his natural ability to see creatively, and his writing skill then allows him to select marvelous images, metaphors, and endearing terms with which he fashions his little songs, his little dramas.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 34 “Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day”

    Shakespeare sonnet 34 “Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day” dramatizes its subject, extending a metaphor of weather with sun and clouds and with the troughs  and crests that appear in the always evolving tumult of the speaker’s creative writing adventure.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 34 “Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day”

    In Shakespeare sonnet 34 “Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker again employs the metaphor of weather to elaborate his concerns with the bumpy roads that his writing process sometimes has to travel.  

    As the speaker dramatizes his writing experience, he extends that weather metaphor of sun and clouds that provide the ups and downs, the crests and troughs, that both favor and then disrupt the ever evolving tumult of the speaker’s writing journey.

    Sonnet 34 “Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day”

    Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day  
    And make me travel forth without my cloak,
    To let base clouds o’ertake me in my way,  
    Hiding thy bravery in their rotten smoke?  
    ’Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break,
    To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face,  
    For no man well of such a salve can speak  
    That heals the wound and cures not the disgrace:
    Nor can thy shame give physic to my grief;
    Though thou repent, yet I have still the loss:
    The offender’s sorrow lends but weak relief
    To him that bears the strong offence’s cross.
      Ah! but those tears are pearl which thy love sheds,  
      And they are rich and ransom all ill deeds.

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    Commentary on Shakespeare Sonnet 34 “Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day”

    Sonnet 34 “Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day” dramatizes its subject, extending a metaphor of weather with sun and clouds with the troughs  and crests that appear in the always evolving tumult of the speaker’s writing creative writing journey.

    First Quatrain:  Dramatizing a Complaint

    Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day  
    And make me travel forth without my cloak,
    To let base clouds o’ertake me in my way,  
    Hiding thy bravery in their rotten smoke?  

    The first quatrain of Sonnet 34 finds the speaker addressing some person or something, inquiring with the rather blunt question that seems to imply some grievance:  For what reason did you make me think the day would be lovely, only to be disappointed that I failed to bring my coat?

    The speaker then continues with the issue: you allowed the clouds to accumulate around me, while covering their insolence in their black fury.  He did not wear his outerwear clothing, because he thought the weather would turn out to be pleasant and sunny.

    However, contrary to the speaker’s anticipation of a nice day, the clouds gathered and turned his fair weather prediction into a false guess.  Their “rotten smoke” of the bank of clouds gave the speaker a drenched face and set of clothing, and he was not happy about this moist outcome.

    Second Quatrain:  Forgiving the Sun’s Behavior

    ’Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break,
    To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face,  
    For no man well of such a salve can speak  
    That heals the wound and cures not the disgrace:

    The speaker next opens up that he now is required to address the sun:  I am not yet satisfied that the sun eventually came and dried my wet condition.  The sun has finally cut between the clouds, and the warm orb is now relieving the wet speaker’s “storm-beaten face.”

    However, the speaker does not immediately forgive the sun’s behavior, because although the star is now drying off the speaker’s face, the speaker is still smarting as he considers himself injured by the earlier drenching: the “salve” is healing the “wound” but “cures not the disgrace.”  

    The clever speaker has been put out by the rain.  And worse it is that he had thought the weather would remain clear.  He is mightily offended that the sun had permitted him to remain unprepared by failing to take his cloak along with him.

    Third Quatrain:  The Sun’s Confession

    Nor can thy shame give physic to my grief;
    Though thou repent, yet I have still the loss:
    The offender’s sorrow lends but weak relief
    To him that bears the strong offence’s cross.

    The speaker now ribs the sun again, as he suggests that in spite of the fact that the offending sun has confessed wrongdoing and attempted to give the speaker recompense,  still, he has been done wrong, and he thinks the sun’s attempt to make amends remains too little, too late.  It never aids the victim that the offender may confess sorrow over a misdeed; the victim continues to suffer because of the offender’s negligent actions.

    The Couplet:  Shining Forth

      Ah! but those tears are pearl which thy love sheds,  
      And they are rich and ransom all ill deeds.

    However,in the couplet, the speaker capitulates, taking back his abrasive upbraid because he now realizes that the daystar as well as all the weather’s behavior has resulted in “tears” of “pearl.”   

    Rain affords richness to the land, assisting with the earth’s fertility.  The sun’s involvement in the entire creative process “ransom[s] all ill deeds”—or does indeed make amends. 

    Again, a Weather Metaphor

    Noticeably,the speaker once more employs the extended metaphor of weather using the sun and clouds to create a little drama, featuring and constantly evoking the activity involved in the speaker’s talent as a writer.

    The speaker had thought when he first set out to create his poem that his muse was with him and shining on him with intensity.  Thus, he traveled forth into the writing process with a cheerful composure.  But he had failed to realize that his muse would soon stop shining and allow the darkening clouds of doubt and frustration to gather, as he attempted to compose.

    However, the speaker’s creative juices begin to flow again, but he still was not amused that his muse would feign to abandon him so easily; therefore, he scolds the muse and protests that has been aggrieved by her.   

    But then, the speaker finally admits that all’s well that ends well, and even the muse’s capricious moments are capable of eventually composting the plowed garden of the speaker’s inspiration.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 35 “No more be griev’d at that which thou hast done”

    In sonnet 35 “No more be griev’d at that which thou hast done,” the speaker is addressing his episode of writer’s dryness which includes the failure of his muse to inspire him, but he realizes that along with the positive, always comes the negative, and this thought sets him on a tranquil path.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 35 “No more be griev’d at that which thou hast done”

    The speaker in sonnet 35 “No more be griev’d at that which thou hast done” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence remains a fairly optimistic fellow. He seldom sinks into melancholy likely because of his confidence in his remarkable ability to compose despite periods of dryness brought on by periods of low inspiration.

    In this sonnet, the speaker is addressing that low inspirational episode and blaming it colorfully on mere failure of his muse to inspire him, but he realizes that he is bound to have bad days as well as good ones.

    As the speaker continues to battle his periods of dryness, he realizes that his battle remains an internal war, for he is only battling his own inadequacies. He does remain ever hopeful for he has realized that even his dry spells can serve him in creating colorful writing topics that result in fulfilling little dramas.

    Sonnet 35 “No more be griev’d at that which thou hast done”

    No more be griev’d at that which thou hast done
    Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud;
    Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,
    And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.
    All men make faults, and even I in this,
    Authorising thy trespass with compare,
    Myself corrupting, salving thy amiss,  
    Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are;  
    For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense,—  
    Thy adverse party is thy advocate,—
    And ‘gainst myself a lawful plea commence:
    Such civil war is in my love and hate,  
      That I an accessary needs must be
      To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 35 “No more be griev’d at that which thou hast done”

    The speaker must weigh the pros and cons of having off days when nothing seems to work the way he would have it. As he remains hopeful even cheerful, he continues to employ colorful images to perform for him, assuring him a tranquil process.

    First Quatrain:  Chiding His Muse

    N0 more be griev’d at that which thou hast done
    Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud;
    Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,
    And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.

    In the first stanza, the speaker is directly addressing his lazy muse, telling her not to worry about failing to inspire him. Then he reasons that, “Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud.” Along with the beauty of the rose come the sharp, ugly thorns that protect it. Also, lovely flowing fountains contain their not-so-lovely features.

    The speaker remains aware that this world will always turn upon the interactions of duality; the eternal pairs of opposites keep creation on its evolutionary march. The speaker avers that the beauty of the “moon and sun” is often blotted out by “[c]louds and eclipses.”

    And even the most adored flower may provide a home to a worm. Therefore, he reasons that although his muse has let him down on occasion, it goes with the territory that his talent should possess some dullness along with brilliance.

    Second Quatrain:  We All Make Mistakes

    All men make faults, and even I in this,
    Authorising thy trespass with compare,
    Myself corrupting, salving thy amiss,  
    Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are  

    The speaker claims that everyone makes mistakes, and everyone is guilty of failures from time to time. He is admitting that even he is at fault for chastising his muse. He admits to “[a]uthorising [the muse’s] trespass with compare.”

    By comparing the muse’s failure with her success, the confident speaker has legitimized the failure more than was needed. And therefore, he has continued to blame himself ultimately more than he should have.

    In blaming himself, the speaker has actually been “[e]xcusing [the muse’s] sins more than [the muse’s] sins are,” yet paradoxically exaggerating their worth more than they deserve. He knows that as he chastises his muse, he is in reality chastising himself, and he admits that he is prone to overstating his case.

    As the speaker continues to brainstorm under the guise of critiquing his behavior and the behavior of the muse, he is cleverly creating what he claims he is unable to create. To write creatively and poetically while creating a viable discourse is to be doing the opposite of what one does if one is afflicted with writer’s dryness.

    If the muse has abandoned him, yet he composes a brilliant sonnet dramatizing the abandonment, he is essentially rendering his complaint null and void. Such is the clever sleight-of-hand of which this speaker is capable!

    Third Quatrain:  Reasoning Oneself out of Difficulty

    For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense,—  
    Thy adverse party is thy advocate,—
    And ‘gainst myself a lawful plea commence:
    Such civil war is in my love and hate,  
      That I an accessary needs must be
      To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.

    In the third quatrain, the speaker continues to reason himself out of his difficulty. He avers that his muse has committed a “sensual fault,” and the speaker will “bring in sense” or reason to correct it. 

    The muse has given in to laziness perhaps, but even overzealousness could qualify as a “sensual fault” as well. Whatever the fault is, it has prevented the speaker’s talent from creating at the top of his ability, which he feels is a stain on his poetry and ultimately his reputation.

    The adversity that the muse’s flaw has brought against the speaker has caused him to experience thoughts about himself that are not constructive. The speaker admits, “[s]uch civil war is in my love and hate”: his moods are filled with such tremendous highs and lows.

    First he loves, then he hates, and the muse shrinks from such violent emotions, favoring calm recollection. As William Wordsworth averred two centuries later, “Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquillity.”

    The Couplet: Emotional Tug-of-War

    That I an accessary needs must be
    To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.

    The couplet sums up the emotional tug-of-war the speaker is having with his muse. His internal “civil war” converts his muse into a “sweet thief” that robs him of his own better judgment. Losing his equanimity, the speaker returns to the backdrop that has plunged him into his combative behavior toward his muse. 

    If he continues to whine about the behavior of his muse, he will continue to berate himself for experiences of the blame and shame that accompany those thoughts. Although William Wordsworth was writing two centuries after the Shakespeare writer, the universality of the tenet of recollecting “powerful feelings” “in tranquillity” remains untethered to a time frame. 

    The Shakespeare writer creating his complaining speaker was as much aware of that tranquillity tenant as Wordsworth will be. Universal ideas remain in the cosmos ready to unfold in the mind that is ready to open to them. Thus even though the speaker in this poem seems to conclude on the negative side, his equilibrium allowing him to call the “thief” “sweet” demonstrates the tranquillity with which he has accepted his lot.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 36  “Let me confess that we two must be twain

    The speaker of Shakespeare sonnet 36 Let me confess that we two must be twainis again addressing his poem, dramatizing the unique duality of unity and separation, as the artist experiences those two phenomena.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 36 “Let me confess that we two must be twain”

    There is a natural, fundamental unity binding the three components of creation: the creator, the act of creating, and the resulting created entity.  For artists, those trinities for poetry, painting, and music can be designated thusly:  poet, making, poem;  painter, painting, painting; musician, composing, score.  

    A generalized art trinity is thus: artist, creating, art.  Each component of the Trinity of Art may be compartmentalized in order to be analyzed and studied.   The speaker in the Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, particularly in the thematic grouping labeled “The Muse Sonnets,” compartmentalizes that art trinity to examine each component in order to create his little dramas. 

    For example, he often separates himself as the poet from the poem in order to subtly praise the sonnet.  Other times, he performs this act simply to revel in the reunification process that results in the creation of an especially belovèd and exceptional poem.

    Within this paradigm also exists the phenomenon of duality vs unity.  Any two aspects of creation may be understood to work together or to work against each other.  The poet, therefore, can experience duality as he separates himself from his poem for some specific reason.  

    As he engages the process of separation, the act of creation becomes silent because it is understood.  Duality becomes the focus in order to analyze and study the nature of the relationship between the artist and his art, without engaging the complex issue of the process of creating.

    Thus, the third scenario, in which this speaker performs this disunifying act, is simply to speak to his sonnet, even as it is in the process of being created. In sonnet 36, the speaker is dramatizing the dual nature of unity and separation, as he expresses his own unique view regarding those two phenomena that he has gained through experience.

    Sonnet 36 “Let me confess that we two must be twain”

    Let me confess that we two must be twain
    Although our undivided loves are one:
    So shall those blots that do with me remain,
    Without thy help, by me be borne alone.
    In our two loves there is but one respect,
    Though in our lives a separable spite,
    Which, though it alter not love’s sole effect,
    Yet doth it steal sweet hours from love’s delight.
    I may not evermore acknowledge thee,
    Lest my bewailed guilt should do thee shame,
    Nor thou with public kindness honour me,
    Unless thou take that honour from thy name:
      But do not so; I love thee in such sort
      As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.

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    Commentary on Shakespeare Sonnet 36 “Let me confess that we two must be twain”

    The speaker of sonnet 36 again addresses his poem, dramatizing the unique duality of unity and separation, as the artist experiences those two phenomena.

    First Quatrain:  Addressing the Poem

    Let me confess that we two must be twain
    Although our undivided loves are one:
    So shall those blots that do with me remain,
    Without thy help, by me be borne alone.

    In the first quatrain of Sonnet 36, the speaker/poet, addressing his poem, confirms that although he and his poem are essentially individual beings, they share a common goal, “our undivided loves are one.”  

    And though both the speaker/poet and the poem are united in their quests, the speaker admits that any error that occurs in his poem-inspired art is his alone and does not belong to his poem.

    Such a confession reminds the reader of the artist who thanks his assistants by giving them much credit for the ultimate production of the art but still claims that if there is anything wrong the art, it is the artist’s flaw and not the assistants.

    Second Quatrain:   The Drama of Unity

    In our two loves there is but one respect,
    Though in our lives a separable spite,
    Which, though it alter not love’s sole effect,
    Yet doth it steal sweet hours from love’s delight.

    The second quatrain again dramatizes the closeness and unity of the poet and the poem.  Despite the fact that they covet a common goal, their individual beings remain an obstacle with which the artist must ever contend.

    The poet and the poem may never completely merge, but they may share the same “sweet hours” that they acquire “from love’s delight.”  The poet, during his creative hours, may sometimes be deceived into believing that the poem will always complement his creative nature, even as the dark times return repeatedly to emphasize their separation.

    Third Quatrain:   No Honor in Blaming Others

    I may not evermore acknowledge thee,
    Lest my bewailed guilt should do thee shame,
    Nor thou with public kindness honour me,
    Unless thou take that honour from thy name:

    The speaker says that perhaps he will not credit his poem for his poetry, because his failure, if he fails, would then attach to the poem, and the speaker/poet avers that there is no honor in blaming anyone but himself for his failures.

    And the speaker then opines that the poem will not announce its relationship to his work, unless it does so in its own name.  The speaker is, obviously, citing a situation that is impossible, but he, nevertheless, avers that his own inspiration in the form of an imaginative poem can do no other than agree.

    The Couplet:   Poem Need not Fret

    But do not so; I love thee in such sort
      As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.

    Finally, the speaker tells the poem not to be concerned.  The poem need not do anything other than inspire the speaker/poet.  The speaker/poet will continue to honor and love the poem because as he asserted in the beginning, they are, in fact, one and indivisible in matters of the heart, and whatever the speaker accomplishes, so does the poem: “mine is thy good report.”

    Questionable Repetition of Couplet in Sonnets 36 and 96

    Shakespeare sonnet 36, in which the speaker also addresses the sonnet directly, has the identical couplet of this sonnet 96. The couplet works well with either sonnet because in both cases the speaker is affirming his identity as the poem’s creator.

    In both sonnets, the fact that they will go forth and engage readers in a way that reflects on the poet is asserted. However, even though, or perhaps because, the couplet works with both sonnets, the possibility of a publishing error exists. It is difficult to see how that would occur, but it cannot be ruled out.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 37 “As a decrepit father takes delight”

    In sonnet 37 “As a decrepit father takes delight,” the speaker is addressing his poem.  He is exploring the ways in which his art, particularly his poetry creation, enriches his life. His sonnets enhance his joy in life and afford him pride of accomplishment, somewhat as a child would do.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 37 “As a decrepit father takes delight”

    The speaker in sonnet 37 “As a decrepit father takes delight” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence is framing his discussion as a father to a child.  As he addresses his poem, he is revealing that he feels for his poetic creations as he would for his offspring.  

    The poem, because it reflects so much of its writer’s qualities, may be thought of as the offspring of its writer.  The speaker finds his comfort and joy in his poems.  He possesses through his art a pride of accomplishment.

    The speaker may feel even more pride in a poem that he has created, knowing that he alone is responsible for its worth.  As God has given humans the ability to procreate, the Blessèd Divine has also given them the power an talent to create. Creating art is a significant way that the human mind can reflect itself in colorful and useful productions.

    Sonnet 37 “As a decrepit father takes delight”

    As a decrepit father takes delight
    To see his active child do deeds of youth,
    So I, made lame by Fortune’s dearest spite,
    Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth;
    For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit,
    Or any of these all, or all, or more,
    Entitled in thy parts do crowned sit,
    I make my love engrafted to this store:
    So then I am not lame, poor, nor despis’d,
    Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give
    That I in thy abundance am suffic’d,
    And by a part of all thy glory live.
      Look what is best, that best I wish in thee:
      This wish I have; then ten times happy me!


    Original Text 

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    Commentary on Sonnet 37 “As a decrepit father takes delight”

    Addressing his sonnet as a father would a son, the speaker is dramatizing multifaceted ways by which his life is enhanced through his written creations.  He is expressing his appreciation and love for his little dramas.

    First Quatrain:  An Aged Father

    As a decrepit father takes delight
    To see his active child do deeds of youth,
    So I, made lame by Fortune’s dearest spite,
    Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth;

    In the first quatrain, the speaker compares his lot in life to an aged father who can take comfort primarily in his son’s life.  The son’s achievements and ability continue to please the aged parent as the offspring’s life proceeds from youth and young adulthood. 

    Regardless of how “lame” the speaker’s future might become, he will always have his works of art to remind him of his brilliant talent.  As he has done often before, the speaker is again addressing his poem; his sonnet is like his son because the speaker’s creativity gives the poetry life. 

    So the speaker—because of his ability to create poetry—can say to his poem:  “I // Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth.”  The speaker has often vowed that his creations will reflect truth; thus, they will remain a valuable asset for his life.

    Second Quatrain:  Creating from Fine Qualities

    For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit,
    Or any of these all, or all, or more,
    Entitled in thy parts do crowned sit,
    I make my love engrafted to this store:

    The speaker then asserts that regardless of whether the positive qualities of “beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit” actually garner accolades from others, he knows that he creates his art from these positive qualities.  

    His determination to remain genuine motivates his best efforts; thus, he knows he can trust his works to reflect the interests that he will continue to engage, even as he advances in the natural aging process.

    The speaker strives to create beauty in his poetry, and he remains convinced that his talent is equal to the effort. He avers that he knows his own mind and heart, and whether his creations are held up like royalty or not, he has attached his love to his works.   He can take comfort that he has produced to the best of his ability, despite what others may think of his efforts.

    Third Quatrain:  Great Talent

    So then I am not lame, poor, nor despis’d,
    Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give
    That I in thy abundance am suffic’d,
    And by a part of all thy glory live.

    Because of his great talent, the speaker can remain assured that he is not “lame, poor, nor despis’d.”  In the “shadow” of his creations, he has learned that he can continue to live abundantly.  The speaker is “suffic’d” by the glory of is works, but he claims only a part of that glory, giving much credit to the mystery that is talent.  

    The speaker is aware that any braggadocio would tarnish the truth of his expression.  He knows that humility must remain part of his mindset, in order to continue to create what is truthful, fair, and honest.

    The speaker has allowed this sonnet’s message and portrayal to harken back to his plea to the young man to marry and have children who would glorify the young man’s old age.  The speaker in this group of poems shows how his poetry saves him from decrepitude, and he demonstrates how his love and essence are reflected in his poetic creations.

    The Couplet:  Writing Poetry Enhanced Happiness

      Look what is best, that best I wish in thee:
      This wish I have; then ten times happy me!

    The speaker recounts that he is ten times as happy as he would be without his talent in writing poetry.   He thus invites the poem to look at what is best and realize that all of the speaker’s wishes rest with the poem. 

    Because the speaker is lucky enough to entertain such a wish, he is, in fact, blessed with many levels of happiness.  While the speaker has not personified the sonnet, he still makes clear that he looks upon his little dramas as holding the place of offspring.  

    His sonnets spring off from his deep-thinking mind, are tempered spiritually by his abundant heart, and are set down by his skillful hand—thus, are his poems not only the result of  the physical level being as a literal child would be, by they also are the product of all three levels of being—physical, mental, and spiritual.  His own dedication to truth continues to lead him to produce his best works.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 38 “How can my Muse want subject to invent”

    In sonnet 38 “How can my Muse want subject to invent,” the speaker is delineating  a fine distinction between his talent and his “Muse” and essentially manages to create a useful tenth muse, not to add to the original nine Muses in “The Theogony” but to work to preserve his own poetic legacy.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 38 “How can my Muse want subject to invent”

    As the speaker in sonnet 38 “How can my Muse want subject to invent”  from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence creates a fine distinction between his talent and his “Muse,” he is simply elaborating the notion that his own special muse/talent renders his works uniquely outstanding.  

    This uniqueness, he believes, will be reflected in the ability of his works to profess a freshness as time passes by.  The clever speaker is, thereby, claiming a special type of genuineness that remains unique in its own special manner.  

    Unlike those earlier bards who called on the nine muses for inspiration, his special talent bolstered by audacious confidence will create his own “tenth muse” that will assist his creations in outshining those reliant on the other nine muses.

    Sonnet 38 “How can my Muse want subject to invent”

    How can my Muse want subject to invent
    While thou dost breathe, that pour’st into my verse
    Thine own sweet argument, too excellent
    For every vulgar paper to rehearse?
    O! give thyself the thanks, if aught in me
    Worthy perusal stand against thy sight;
    For who’s so dumb that cannot write to thee,
    When thou thyself dost give invention light?
    Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth
    Than those old nine which rimers* invocate;
    And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth
    Eternal numbers to outlive long date.
      If my slight Muse do please these curious days,
      The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 38:  “How can my Muse want subject to invent”

    In sonnet 38 “How can my Muse want subject to invent,” the speaker is dramatizing a fictional distinction between his talent and his “Muse,” with a confidence so potent that it will create a tenth muse.

    First Quatrain:  Question to the Muse

    How can my Muse want subject to invent
    While thou dost breathe, that pour’st into my verse
    Thine own sweet argument, too excellent
    For every vulgar paper to rehearse?

    The speaker opens Sonnet 38 by addressing his talent, asking how his muse could lack something worthy to write about as long as the speaker possesses such strong and capable talent.  The speaker avers that his talent resembles living waters that “pour[] into [his] verse / [their] own sweet argument.”  

    This speaker’s own talent informs his verse with such sweetness and high quality that it remains unequalled by any of those lesser talents who currently spread their wares in search of an audience.   While he seems to be boasting, he is, in fact, merely elucidating the verity that his poems yield a high quality, not like lesser works with which inferior poems must struggle.

    Second Quatrain:   Advising His Talent

    O! give thyself the thanks, if aught in me
    Worthy perusal stand against thy sight;
    For who ’s so dumb that cannot write to thee,
    When thou thyself dost give invention light?

    The speaker then advises his talent (which, of course, also co-exists with the speaker’s very soul) to give credit to itself, if the speaker has anything worthy to say.  This speaker reckons that when talent is present, anyone would be capable of writing:  when the muse/talent is present in sufficient quality and ability, anyone except the very depraved in intelligence may put pen to paper with some level of success.  

    Because this speaker’s strong talent sheds such a vigorous light of creation, he, therefore, cannot fail to produce worthy art that he is sure will endure down through the ages.  He has become well aware of his considerable ability, using it to fulfill his goal of producing meaningful, profound works.  

    He does not makes such audacious statement merely to boast; he is merely reporting factual matters as they exist.  The speaker has a nightly talent, he knows it, and therefore he has no issues with describing and even praising it as is necessary for the drama.

    Third Quatrain:   Earlier Invocation

    Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth
    Than those old nine which rimers invocate;
    And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth
    Eternal numbers to outlive long date.

    Many earlier poets have invoked the muses when beginning a poem.  Homer began The Iliad with “Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus,” and The Odyssey with “Tell me, O muse, of that ingenious hero.”  Edmund Spenser begins The Faere Queene with “Lo I the man, whose Muse whilome did maske.”  

    But then the speaker calls on his writing capabilities to stand in place of  the “tenth Muse.” And he, therefore, commands his talent to be that “tenth Muse,” adding that his Tenth Muse will then be ten times more valuable than the muses the poets of old had invoked.

    This poet does far more than merely create rimes; he knows himself to be a genuine poet. This speaker remains confident that the poet who relies upon his own God-given talent will create works far superior to those craftsmen who in earlier time relied upon a group of nine Muses for their inspiration and guidance.   

    The speaker/poet remains steadily sure of his own talent and that its strength and ability will stand his works in good stead as the years pass.  He recognizes that he is up to the task of poetry creation that will remain universal even as it creates his own personal dramas.

    The Couplet:   Humble and Creative

    If my slight Muse do please these curious days,
      The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.

    The speaker then becomes ever more humble by asserting that if his “slight Muse” can create poetry that is pleasant for his own enigmatic times, he himself may incur the pain of the arduous labor, but his talent/soul will receive “the praise.” 

    This humble speaker, at last, acknowledges that his mind and ability apart from his poetic talent are small and must put forth great effort, but his talent is able to shine through his mental dullness to hoist his creations to greatness.   

    The speaker has essentially created a tenth muse to add to the original nine.  And while as a mere human being and a man, he would appreciate “praise,” he is more determined that his works are lauded, for they will outlive him.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 39 “O! how thy worth with manners may I sing”

    In sonnet 39 O! how thy worth with manners may I sing,” the speaker is dramatizing a division between himself and his poem, in order to think lovingly about the value of the poem without slipping into solipsism.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 39 “O! how thy worth with manners may I sing”

    In Shakespeare Sonnet 39 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker is dramatizing a  fancied division or separation between himself and his poem.  He is creating this distance so that he can acknowledge the value of his creation without slipping into ugly solipsism.

    The speaker knows that his poems are exceptionally well written and that they deserve to be recognized as great art.  But he does not want to toot his own horn and praise his poems.  Thus he creates a momentary space in which he can attest to the quality of his work.

    Sonnet 39 “O! how thy worth with manners may I sing”

    O! How thy worth with manners may I sing
    When thou art all the better part of me?
    What can mine own praise to mine own self bring?
    And what is ’t but mine own when I praise thee?
    Even for this let us divided live, And our dear love lose name of single one,  
    That by this separation I may give
    That due to thee, which thou deserv’st alone.
    O absence! what a torment wouldst thou prove,
    Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave
    To entertain the time with thoughts of love,
    Which time and thoughts so sweetly doth deceive,
      And that thou teachest how to make one twain,
      By praising him here who doth hence remain.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 39 “O! how thy worth with manners may I sing”  

    Sonnet 39 “O! how thy worth with manners may I sing” finds the speaker dramatizing a complete separation between himself and his poem, in order to think lovingly about the value of the poem without slipping into solipsism.

    First Quatrain:  How to Approach His Poem’s Worth

    O! How thy worth with manners may I sing
    When thou art all the better part of me?
    What can mine own praise to mine own self bring?
    And what is ’t but mine own when I praise thee?

    In the first quatrain of Shakespeare sonnet 39 “O! how thy worth with manners may I sing,” the speaker questions the poem, asking how he (the speaker) can portray the value of the poem; he compliments the work calling it “the better part of me.”   Thus if he dares boast about the poem’s worth, he will simply be praising himself because the poem comes from his “better part,” which is his invaluable and unique talent.

    The next two lines seem to simply reiterate the same question.  He continues to wonder if he would sound like a pathetic braggart, if he praises his own written compositions.  He is setting his drama through rhetorical questioning that he will likely vouchsafe the answers as the drama proceeds.   

    His ultimate concoction functions similarly to a paradox which upon further appropriate refection always becomes abundantly apparent despite at first blush seeming riddled with contradiction.

    Second Quatrain:   Distinguishing Self and Creation

    Even for this let us divided live, And our dear love lose name of single one,  
    That by this separation I may give
    That due to thee, which thou deserv’st alone.

    The speaker then drives a wedge between himself and his creation, claiming that if there is at least a slight separation between the creator and his creation, the speaker can then give all the credit to the creation without seeming to be praising himself.   

    As a poet, this speaker wishes to acknowledge the value of his works, but he knows that any hint of praise for his own creation would seem improper.  This speaker’s love for his own work will not allow him to permit even a slight appearance of self-aggrandizement.

    Those who have observed the solipsistic qualities in certain artists know the disgust that such displays of braggadocio generates.  The postmodernists of the late twentieth century raised this kind of art like a proud flag and thereby diminished the prestige of the arts, especially poetry.  

    This speaker remains prescient in his knowledge that such a condition arising for the arts would be a disaster, causing public scorn and ultimate dismissal, which has all but come about for the art of poetry.

    (Please note:  For further information about how this postmodernist ethos works, please see my article “Poetry and Politics under the Influence of Postmodernism.”)

    Third Quatrain:  A Drama of Separation

    O absence! what a torment wouldst thou prove,
    Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave
    To entertain the time with thoughts of love,
    Which time and thoughts so sweetly doth deceive,

    In the third quatrain, the speaker becomes quite dramatic as he addresses the separation of himself from his work:  “O absence! what a torment wouldst thou prove.”   If his absence from his unity with his poetry were factual, it would actually “torment” the speaker, but the “sour leisure” or temporary hiatus from the true unity merely affords the speaker a respite to contemplate the true love that ties him as artist to his art.  

    So the supposed separation between artist and his creation is deceptive, yet the interval between the idea of unity and disunity provides a period for sweet thoughts of the love that binds them.

    The Couplet:  The Respite of Absence

    And that thou teachest how to make one twain,
      By praising him here who doth hence remain.

    Not only does the “absence” provide that respite, but it also “teachest how to make one twain.”  The speaker is free to think lovingly of his art for the brief time that they are separate because during that interval only the poem remains.   The speaker has taken himself out of the equation, if only for a brief moment, and if only in theory.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 40: “Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all”

    Shakespeare sonnet 40 Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all” continues the hiatus from unity taken by the speaker that he declared in sonnet 39, but instead of praising the poem, he appears to be chiding it.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 40 “Take all my loves, my love,yea, take them all”

    In sonnet 40 “Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all”  from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker becomes ultra crafty, cleverly playing on the word “love,” as he again feigns an imaginary distance from his creations. This speaker loves his poems and his ability to craft them more than life itself. 

    The creative craftsman has proven his love and his appreciation for his ability to write poetry in nearly every sonnet up to this point.   And, spoiler alert! he will continue to demonstrate his love and loyalty to his writing vocation, even beyond this current sequence—”The Muse Sonnets” 18-126—that focuses directly on that topic.

    The speaker’s ability to complain and yet create loveliness with language has become part of the mystique that belongs to the Shakespeare writer.  His amazing talent serves him well as he pushes himself to continue his poetic works.   In this poem as he addresses his sonnet as “my love,” he demonstrates his deep affection for each poem that he has thus far fashioned.

    Sonnet 40 “Take all my loves, my love,yea, take them all”

    Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all
    What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?  
    No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call;
    All mine was thine before thou hadst this more.  
    Then, if for my love thou my love receivest, I cannot blame thee for my love thou usest;
    But yet be blam’d, if thou thyself deceivest
    By wilful taste of what thyself refusest.
    I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief,  
    Although thou steal thee all my poverty; And yet, love knows it is a greater grief
    To bear love’s wrong than hate’s known injury.
      Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,  
      Kill me with spites; yet we must not be foes.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 40: “Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all”

    While the speaker often praises his poems, at times for a blistering little drama, he must appear to complain and even rail against them. Sonnet 40 “Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all” finds the speaker remaining somewhat distanced from his poetic unity that he had declared in sonnet 39 “O! how thy worth with manners may I sing,” as he again seems to be scolding his works.

    First Quatrain:  Art Can Take All

    Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all
    What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?  
    No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call;
    All mine was thine before thou hadst this more.  

    The speaker begins by commanding “[his] love” to go ahead and relieve him of all that he loves.  His poetry takes much energy, time, and dedication, so he affirms that he is giving in and letting his art take all that he is, all that he loves.   

    It has already become apparent that this speaker’s greatest love is the art itself, as he has affirmed repeatedly. But now the speaker remonstrates that even if his art succeeds in taking all of the speaker’s loves, it will not have more than it already has.  

    This claim stands perfectly in line with the fact that his poetry already has all of his love—a unity which he can divide and separate at will, simply for the sake of dramatic creation. The speaker plays on the word “love,” repeating it many times with slightly different meanings:  “No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call.”  

    The first love refers to the ordinary abstract referent, while the second directly addresses his art, thereby somewhat personifying the poem, and the third refers back similarly to the first abstract referent, except instead of mere “love,” the speaker emphasizes it by calling it “true love.”  

    His clever word plays offer color and variety to his dramas.  He employs them often and is likely very amused by his own shenanigans in language.  Not only does this speaker/poet entertain an audience of other people, but he also entertains himself with his masterful language skill.

    Second Quatrain:  Playing on Love

    Then, if for my love thou my love receivest, I cannot blame thee for my love thou usest;
    But yet be blam’d, if thou thyself deceivest
    By wilful taste of what thyself refusest.

    In the second quatrain, the speaker continues playing on the word “love” as he addresses his poem.  He muses that even if his work takes all of his love, because of his love, the poem will assuredly be blamed if it deceives itself by taking his loves when the speaker will need his loves to enrich the poem.

    The poem can deplete itself only by depleting the speaker.  The speaker whimsically personifies his art in order to upbraid it for usurping all of the speaker’s energy, time, and, of course, “love.”  

    The word play may, at time, give readers a feeling of a whirlwind in the mind, keeping the ever so slightly varied meanings straight while at the same time assigning each meaning to a specific period of time.  

    Without mentioning time, the speaker has engaged that feature to speak in quantities of wish, desire, and proper affection, never diluted with anything less than genuine feeling.

    Third Quatrain:  Robbed of Poverty

    I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief,  
    Although thou steal thee all my poverty;
    And yet, love knows it is a greater grief
    To bear love’s wrong than hate’s known injury.

    The personification continues as the poem becomes a “gentle thief,” who has robbed the speaker of his “poverty.”  However, unlike a real robber who robs wealth, this “gentle thief” removes poverty from the speaker.  

    The speaker has determined that an upside-down theory can get him over the finish line as he rounds the bend to his couplet.  Word play can work indefinitely as long as it genuinely communicates.  Paradoxically, the speaker asserts, “love knows it is a greater grief / To bear love’s wrong than hate’s known injury.” 

    This paradox plays out in time simply on top of the theft of poverty that provides the speaker with the entanglement that only his feigned lost love can possibly rectify.   The speaker continues to reassure his poems that they will always communicate, despite the clever tricks he will employ and exploit.

    The Couplet:  The Nature of Affection

      Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,  
      Kill me with spites; yet we must not be foes.

    By averring that “[l]ascivious grace” would be responsible for “kill[ing]” the speaker “with spites,” the speaker repudiates the nature of affection that could divide the speaker from his art perpetually. 

    The crafty speaker then seals the unification to which he has returned by demanding, “we must not be foes.”  This demand is, of course, greatly understated.

    The speaker, however, is permitted to reinvent his argument as he likes in future to achieve whatever variety he may need.  He knows he cannot repeat his arguments with exactitude; he must continue to make his works new, even as he rehashes old tricks.  

    All those word plays and language tricks must still coalesce to make dramas that clearly communicate the speaker’s central theme of love, beauty, and truth—which always meld into the unity for which the speaker lives and writes.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 41 “Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits”

    In sonnet 41 Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits,” the speaker is addressing his poem, dramatizing the differences between true poetic qualities and poetic license to create.  He also declares his unity with his art, as he makes a promise to his future readers to remain genuine and honest.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 41“Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits”

    The speaker in sonnet 41 “Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, does an about face regarding his unity with his poetic creations. As he dramatizes the nature of genuine poetic qualities, he contrasts them with the mere laying on of decoration. 

    Because the speaker’s only interest is in the genuine stuff of poetry, he now reasserts his unity with his poetry.  He has made it clear that his only duty is to produce genuine art.  This speaker thus assures his readers that he would never afford himself mere poetic license, which would result only in fabrication and even folly.

    This talented speaker is making a promise to this audience that he will pursue only genuine feelings as he creates his little dramas.  Because he remains so connected and dedicated to creating the best art possible, he can assure his audience of his authentic intensions.  

    He despises anything fake, plastic, or concocted—the kind of poetry produced by poetasters.  This speaker has taken stock of his own abilities and has vowed to himself to remain focused and never to descend into the attitudes of the libertines, who litter the literary landscape with their dreck and drivel.

    Sonnet 41  “Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits”

    Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits
    When I am sometimes absent from thy heart,
    Thy beauty and thy years full well befits,
    For still temptation follows where thou art.
    Gentle thou art, and therefore to be won,
    Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assail’d;
    And when a woman woos, what woman’s son
    Will sourly leave her till she have prevail’d?
    Ay me!  but yet thou mightst my seat forbear,
    And chide thy beauty and thy straying youth,
    Who lead thee in their riot even there
    Where thou art forc’d to break a twofold truth;—
    Hers, by thy beauty tempting her to thee,
    Thine, by thy beauty being false to me.

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    Commentary on Shakespeare Sonnet 41 “Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits”

    The speaker in sonnet 41 “Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits” is directly addressing his poem, dramatizing the differences between genuine poetic qualities and those that merely masquerade as poetic qualities. He is also declaring his unity with his art.

    First Quatrain:  The Loveliness of Intent

    Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits
    When I am sometimes absent from thy heart,
    Thy beauty and thy years full well befits,
    For still temptation follows where thou art.

    Sonnet 41 “Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits” finds this clever speaker conversing with his sonnet again, as he reports the phenomenon that sometimes when the poet is not practicing his art, his thoughts commit “pretty wrongs.”   The musing speaker does not clearly specify the wrongs, but the point is that even when he is “absent from [the poem’s] heart,” its loveliness of intent follows him. 

    Most poets and artists find themselves from time to time asserting that they are always looking for something that will contribute to their next creation.   Practicing aestheticism tempts the artist to anything the artist may deem beautiful.  This speaker hints that he is not a beginning poet but has for many years been allured by art’s aesthetic temptations.

    Such temptations, nevertheless, must be tempered by reason and deep thinking.  This speaker thus asserts that he will continue to treasure profundity over the superficiality of decorative art.  He is determined to keep his art genuine, reflecting true human feelings and not the plastic, bombastic fake emotions that mar amateurish attempts to create poems.

    Second Quatrain:  Most Attractive Qualities

    Gentle thou art, and therefore to be won,
    Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assail’d;
    And when a woman woos, what woman’s son
    Will sourly leave her till she have prevail’d?

    The speaker then reveals the qualities that most attract him—gentleness and beauty.  He insists that any mother’s son would do the same.   The gentle and beautiful slope of art wins the artist’s heart.  It is as natural as night following day.   If the speaker tried to resist such temptation, it would cause him to feel bitter.  His life would sour until he returned again to his Spirit-driven attractions and practiced his in-born talent.  

    This talented speaker can prevail only in following his intuition that leads him always back to his love of creating his poems.  Natural talent must be nurtured and cannot be hurried.   The fruit of natural talent will always be obvious to the audience/viewers of the particular art, whether it be poems, plays, songs, or other artistic endeavors. 

    This speaker’s goal is to appeal only to those who are capable of appreciating genuine art; he cares little for sycophants and other sheep-like followers.  Even as he seeks a genuine audience, he remains more dedicated to genuine art than to wide-spread publicity.

    Third Quatrain:   Poem over Poet

    Ay me! but yet thou mightst my seat forbear,
    And chide thy beauty and thy straying youth,
    Who lead thee in their riot even there
    Where thou art forc’d to break a twofold truth;—

    The speaker then addresses the notion that the poem might garner more attention than the poet.   The beauty and the “straying youth” of the poem might seem to “chide” the speaker or even the poem itself; thus, such a chiding would count as one of the “pretty wrongs that liberty commits.”   

    The speaker thus insists that the poem is forced to tell the truth, even as it appears to “break a twofold truth.”  He then asserts that whoever would “lead thee in their riot even there” is the one who would cause the muse to break with truth, but the twofold truth is delayed until the couplet.

    The speaker continues to hold to the notion that the poet should never become more interesting or more important to readers than his works.  If that happens, it likely means that the poet’s life has become that of a libertine, and not a life of discipline.   The libertine would thus produce superficial art, hoping to reach as wide an audience as possible.  The disciplined artist would produce quality art, even if his appeal remains limited.

    The Couplet:  The Poem’s Proper Condition

    Hers, by thy beauty tempting her to thee,
    Thine, by thy beauty being false to me.

    If the muse breaks truth with the poem, her beauty would tempt the speaker to address the necessary correction to bring the poem back to its proper condition, and if the beauty is merely superficial, the poem would not only be untruthful to itself, but it would also prove false to the speaker.  

    The speaker has on every occasion convinced the reader that he could never allow such an atrocity; therefore, the unity of poet and poem is recaptured.  He knows that he and his poem must remain united, but at times, he must appear to make an important distinction between his goals and society’s superficial goals. 

    Decoration merely for the sake of decoration must be eschewed at all costs.  This speaker knows that only genuine, natural beauty can enhance and therefore deepen his dramas.   He is essentially making a vow, composing a contract with his readers that he will remain so connected to his poems that he would never allow himself to falter in pursuing the genuine, the beautiful, and the true.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 42 “That thou hast her, it is not all my grief”

    The speaker in sonnet 42 “That thou hast her, it is not all my grief” is contemplating the unified nature of art and artist, as he addresses his talent, personifying it as a lover who has tried to pursue his mistress, the poem.  His conclusion offers him the comfort he continues to seek.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 42 “That thou hast her, it is not all my grief”

    The writer of the Shakespeare sonnets continues to concoct clever little dramas to examine his own talent in “The Muse Sonnets” thematic group from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence.   His exploration of art and artist has revealed that he has a nimble mind that can create many different angles to explore his thought processes.  Some of the questions that the speaker is attempting to answer for himself include the following: 

    • Can an artist be separated from his art?  
    • What is the difference between the artist, the act of creating the art, and the final, created product? 
    • Does the artist have total control over his creations?  
    • How might the creation exercise control over the artist?

    Sonnets 30-42 have been exploring, even agonizing, over the conundrum of the relationship between the artist and the art work.  In sonnet 42 “That thou hast her, it is not all my grief,” the speaker continues to contemplate the unified nature of art and artist, or poem and poet. Also once again, this speaker is musing on and addressing his talent. He cleverly personifies that talent as a lover who has attempted to capture the heart of his mistress, the sonnet.

    Sonnet 42 “That thou hast her, it is not all my grief”

    That thou hast her, it is not all my grief 
    And yet it may be said I lov’d her dearly;
    That she hath thee, is of my wailing chief,
    A loss in love that touches me more nearly. 
    Loving offenders, thus I will excuse ye:  
    Thou dost love her, because thou know’st I love her;
     And for my sake even so doth she abuse me, 
    Suffering my friend for my sake to approve her.
    If I lose thee, my loss is my love’s gain, 
    And losing her, my friend hath found that loss; 
    Both find each other, and I lose both twain, 
    And both for my sake lay on me this cross: 
      But here’s the joy; my friend and I are one; 
      Sweet flattery! then she loves but me alone.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 42 “That thou hast her, it is not all my grief”

    Contemplating the unified nature of art and artist, the speaker is addressing his talent, personifying it as a lover who has strived to pursue his mistress, the poem.

    First Quatrain:  A Lover’s Triangle

    That thou hast her, it is not all my grief 
    And yet it may be said I lov’d her dearly;
    That she hath thee, is of my wailing chief,
    A loss in love that touches me more nearly. 

    In the first quatrain, the speaker uses his ingenuity to set up a scenario of a love triangle.  The speaker addresses what seems to be a third party, who has stolen, or tried to steal, the speaker’s mistress.

    Addressing the would-be thief, the speaker says in effect “the fact that you may have taken her from me may be sad but that is not all from which I will suffer.” However, the speaker makes it abundantly clear that even if the would-be lover-thief has, indeed, stolen the mistress, the speaker is not devastated by it.  

    Even though the speaker had deep affection for her, he is more upset that the mistress might return the affection of the intrusive lover, that is, be taken by him.  If she is willing to take the third party of the triangle, the speaker is more affected.  

    Likely, creating such a scenario as a lovers’ triangle gives the speaker a deeper appreciation of his art and affords him more satisfaction than his efforts put forth trying to dig himself out of the dark hole of inspirational dryness.  The colorful little dramas that he is able to create continue to mount as he associates his talent with possible situations, even likely events he has actually experienced in the past.

    Second Quatrain:  The Drama of Creation

    Loving offenders, thus I will excuse ye:  
    Thou dost love her, because thou know’st I love her;
    And for my sake even so doth she abuse me, 
    Suffering my friend for my sake to approve her.

    The speaker then addresses the would-be intrusive lover and the supposed mistress, calling them “Loving offenders” but saying he “excuses” them.  And he explains why he is being so magnanimous:  he knows that the intrusive lover loves his mistress, only because the speaker loves her.   And the mistress’ affection for the intrusive lover is the result of her wishing to keep favor with the speaker.  

    Such a situation demonstrates that the speaker is not referring to a literal unfaithful mistress and would-be adulterer.  The personified concepts stand metaphorically for poem (mistress) and talent, or art and process (would-be stealer of the mistress’s heart).

    In such a case of created unfaithfulness, the speaker can rest assured that his creation will not, in fact, ever fail him; his sonnets will always remain faithful despite his playful bouts of pretending that they could ever be otherwise.  

    This clever speaker has learned to remain balanced through an artist’s flair of harmonious pretense vs reality.  His ability to pursue what is real cannot throw him off balance despite his hyperbolic claims and assertions.

    Third Quatrain:  Speculation and the Nature of Loss

    If I lose thee, my loss is my love’s gain, 
    And losing her, my friend hath found that loss; 
    Both find each other, and I lose both twain, 
    And both for my sake lay on me this cross: 

    The speaker then speculates about the nature of loss, and he decides that if he loses that particular poem, he still wins because he has the ability to create others.  If the speaker loses the ability to create others, he would lose both that poem and any future poems he might create.  And that loss would, indeed, result in his having a “cross” to bear.  This inventive speaker remains assured that he cannot lose anything that relates to his art creation.  

    He has experienced his periods of inspirational lack and conquered them brilliantly; thus, his confidence allows him to remain evenminded, even as he concocts notions of loss, pain, and sorrow.  His ability to create remains as strong as ever, even during those times that he must struggle to convince his own mind that that strength still remains ascendant. 

    The Couplet:  The Declaration of Unity

      But here’s the joy; my friend and I are one; 
      Sweet flattery! then she loves but me alone.

    The speaker then declaims a triumphant announcement: we remain one unity, my talent and I cannot be separated.  Once again, the musing speaker reaches the conclusion that he is eternally united with his talent.  So because there is no separation between himself and his ability to create poems, he cannot lose either the poem or his talent.  

    The unity that the speaker from time to time feigns to lose remains with him always, and he can be both aware and unaware of the presence of that unity, as he sees fit, or for whatever purpose is required for the next colorful, meaningful, and profound little drama.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 43 “When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see”

    Shakespeare Sonnet 43 “When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see” finds the speaker musing on the transformative powers of his poetic muse.  She can turn night into day, while ordinary vision fails to inspire.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 43 “When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see”

    In the Shakespearean sonnet 43 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the creative speaker asserts that his dreaming vision which includes his poetic muse is always brighter than daylight.  

    Even though he sees ordinary objects in daylight, they cannot hearten him as does his muse in dreams or darkness.  The speaker’s muse who leads him to his poetry creation remains the brightest star in his life.  A nighttime of bright muse is worth much more any daytime of ordinary light.

    Sonnet 43 “When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see”

    When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see  
    For all the day they view things unrespected;
    But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee,
    And darkly bright, are bright in dark directed.
    Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,
    How would thy shadow’s form form happy show
    To the clear day with thy much clearer light,  
    When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so!
    How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made
    By looking on thee in the living day,
    When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade
    Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!
      All days are nights to see till I see thee,
      And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.

    Original Text

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    Commentary on Sonnet 43 “When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see”

    In sonnet 43 “When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see,” the speaker is musing on the transformative powers of his poetic muse.  She can turn night into day, while ordinary vision fails to inspire.

    First Quatrain:   Seeing While Sleeping

    When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see  
    For all the day they view things unrespected;
    But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee,
    And darkly bright, are bright in dark directed.

    The speaker in Shakespeare Sonnet 43 “When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see,” claims that he sees best when he “sleeps,” or visits the astral, mental world because it is then that he experiences his belovèd—the poetry muse.  The dark behind the closed eyes of sleep, whether day or night dreaming, reveal to the speaker all the love and beauty he desires.

    The speaker then muses on his belovèd with a concentration directed toward fashioning his thoughts and feelings into a sonnet.  The darkness is figuratively lit up with the brilliance of creativity.   He sees many objects during the day that are ordinary to which he seldom gives a second glance.

    Second Quatrain:  Bright Shadow

    Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright, How would thy shadow’s form form happy show
    To the clear day with thy much clearer light,  
    When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so!

    Even the shadow of the speaker’s muse is bright, filled with light that makes a “happy show.”   The speaker plays with incremental repetition here in such lines as “whose shadow shadows doth make bright” and “How would thy shadow’s form form happy show.” 

    And the speaker also uses the alliteration of sibilant sounds:  “to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so!”   The skillful speaker is practicing his skill with words as he celebrates and praises his poetic muse.  

    Again, this talented poet/speaker insists that even the darkness or the shadow of his muse is “clearer” than the ordinary light of day.  This speaker’s mental world is brighter and more amazing to him than the physical world he perceives with his physical eyes.

    Third Quatrain:  A Question of Rhetorical Importance

    How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made
    By looking on thee in the living day,
    When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade
    Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!

    The third quatrain is an exclamatory rhetorical question:  how could I fancy seeing you in the ordinary light of day when the shadow of your presence lights my sleep, and unlike the flitting glances of daylight vision your “imperfect shade” remains with me in my mental world!? 

    The rhetorical question answers itself by asserting that the speaker’s mental vision is superior to his physical vision because it is permanent when the speaker deems it so.

    The Couplet:  Reversing Day and Night

    All days are nights to see till I see thee,
      And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.

    Day and night reverse themselves in the musings of the speaker.  If he does not encounter his muse in ordinary light, then it might as well be night for him.   But when the speaker’s muse appears to him, even if it is night, even if he is merely dreaming, then nighttime transforms into a “bright day[].”

    Polyptotonic Repetition

    Shakespeare Sonnet 43 “When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see” employs the rhetorical device known as polyptoton in classical rhetoric.  This type of repetition places emphasis on a word or thought as it adds texture and specificity to the line or phrase.  

    The repeated term appears often but not always in a slightly altered form, for example,  “darkly” and “dark,” “shadow” and “shadows.”  In sonnet 43, the following lines employ polyptoton:

    Line 4:  “And DARKLY bright, are bright in DARK directed.”
    Line 5:  “Then thou, whose SHADOW SHADOWS doth make bright”
    Line 6:  “How would thy shadow’s FORM FORM happy show”
    Line 7:  “To the CLEAR day with thy much CLEARER light”
    Line 13:    “All days are nights to SEEtill I SEE thee”

    One might imagine that he poet in this piece had decided to practice the use of this device, but if so, his practice because of his skill resulted in a rich texture of verse.  

    His voice sounds as natural as if he had been speaking right off the top of his head.   Ultimately, that skill remains the reason that this speaker can be so assured of the value of his creations.  He was a true bard and he knew it.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 44 “If the dull substance of my flesh were thought”

    In sonnet 44 If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,” the ever-profound, thinking speaker is contemplating the meaning of space and distance from his muse, as he dramatizes the differences between flesh and thought.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 44 “If the dull substance of my flesh were thought”

    The astute speaker in sonnet 44 “If the dull substance of my flesh were thought” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence is exploring the notion of thought as it relates to the influence of his muse and his physical body’s ability for motion.  The speaker knows that the muse, being an ethereal entity, is capable of great speed.  The muse is essentially a creature of thought—as well as an element of the soul.  

    As soon as this thought creature escapes him and flies off to God-knows-where, the speaker feels abandoned, left to the influence of his physical and mental encasements—body and mind.  

    Although the speaker would like to have the same ability to speed off physically as he chases his muse, he realizes that his slow periods of “moan[ing]” result in his creations.  Thus, another problem period of low inspiration is solved through a useful, fertile drama, featuring speed and accuracy.

    Sonnet 44 “If the dull substance of my flesh were thought”

    If the dull substance of my flesh were thought  
    Injurious distance should not stop my way;  
    For then, despite of space, I would be brought,  
    From limits far remote, where thou dost stay.
    No matter then although my foot did stand
    Upon the furthest earth remov’d from thee;
    For nimble thought can jump both sea and land,
    As soon as think the place where he would be.
     But, ah! thought kills me that I am not thought,
    To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone,
    But that, so much of earth and water wrought,  
    I must attend time’s leisure with my moan;
      Receiving nought by elements so slow
      But heavy tears, badges of either’s woe.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 44 “If the dull substance of my flesh were thought”

    The speaker is musing on the meaning of space and distance from his muse as he dramatizes the differences between flesh and thought—or more generally the differences between the material and spiritual levels of being.

    First Quatrain:  Body and Thought

    If the dull substance of my flesh were thought  
    Injurious distance should not stop my way;  
    For then, despite of space, I would be brought,  
    From limits far remote, where thou dost stay.

    The speaker begins by contemplating a scenario in which his body could take on the attributes of a thought.  Because thought can move from one place to another in an instant, if the speaker himself were “thought” instead of “flesh,” he could flit through space as effortlessly as a thought can flit through the mind from one idea to the next.  

    If the speaker could move so expeditiously, then distance would not be “injurious.”  Nothing could stop the speaker from moving from one place to the next, and thus he could follow his muse as easily as he follows one idea to another.   

    Or the speaker could actually move himself as far as he chose, as it continued to follow the fleeting muse.  Such an ability makes a marvelous target for contemplation; therefore, he surely feels that he on to something colorful to enliven a little drama in fourteen lines.

    Second Quatrain:  Muse Flying Off

    No matter then although my foot did stand
    Upon the furthest earth remov’d from thee;
    For nimble thought can jump both sea and land,
    As soon as think the place where he would be.

    The second quatrain reiterates the fact that thought is both rapid and nimble, with the wonderfully agile ability to speed and jump even between “sea and land.” If the muse flies off beyond his reach, in thought the speaker can fly off to follow his belovèd muse.    

    The speaker can follow his belovèd muse in thought, despite the fact that that muse may have removed itself to some distant place.  The speaker is astounded by the velocity of thought.  He wishes that his body could achieve such speed.  

    The speaker then comes to the realization that the effectiveness such creative power lends through thought remains a miracle.  He then detects a contradictory notion, but instead of pursuing it immediately, lets it wait as he places that resolution into the third quatrain.

    Third Quatrain:   Bestowing a Moan on Time

    But, ah! thought kills me that I am not thought,  
    To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone,
    But that, so much of earth and water wrought,  
    I must attend time’s leisure with my moan;

    In the third quatrain, the speaker seeks to sooth his frustrated mood brought on by the necessity for reliance of physics.  Through colorful exaggeration he contends that although it “kills [him] that [he is] not thought,” he can realize that despite his physical  composition of “earth and water,” he is required to pay attention to the way time progresses, and he can do so with his painful “moan.” 

    While bestowing a moan on “time’s leisure” may seem a pale duty compared to the fairy-like abilities of flitting from planet to planet, the speaker knows that his liabilities work to his advantage:  if he, in fact, had such speed in body, he would lack the motivation to create the products that result from his “attend[ing]” to “time’s leisure.” 

    So as the speaker “moan[s],” he creates, and his creativity is vastly more important to him than remaining in grasping distance of his muse, as is evident from the many sonnets devoted to exploring every nuance of his talent.

    The Couplet: The Admixture of Earthly Elements

      Receiving nought by elements so slow
      But heavy tears, badges of either’s woe.

    Because the speaker’s body is made up of earthly elements, water and earth, his mind is governed by those same elements.  On the one hand, the speaker is exasperated to be slowed down to what seems like a turtle’s pace; yet, on the other hand, it is his own mind that is capable of realizing the nature of the speed of thought.  

    The speaker’s “heavy tears” are converted to a “badge of [] woe,” and he gladly shares that badge like a badge of honor with his own creative mind. He has composed his sonnet through the moans and groans that accompany his complaints.  That nature does not conform to his wishes, thus, assists in offering a level of inspiration that total perfection could never do.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 45 “The other two, slight air and purging fire”

    As the speaker of sonnet 45 “The other two, slight air and purging fire” contemplates the status of his creativity, he is musing on the admixture of the four elements of earth, water, fire, and air and how the lighter qualities of air and fire play on his moods and attitudes.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 45 “The other two, slight air and purging fire”

    In sonnet 45 “The other two, slight air and purging fire” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker is contemplating the nature and status of his creativity.  As he muses on that nature, he focuses on how the elements of air and fire contribute to his moods and attitudes.  

    This speaker understands that his body is composed of the four elements of earth, water, fire, and air.  He considers the earth and water elements the grosser, or heavier, ones that when mused upon lead to sorrow.  The lighter elements of fire and air lead to happier thoughts and creativity.

    Paramahansa Yogananda, “The Father of Yoga in the West,” has explained the science of the elemental states and how they affect the human encasements: 

    The Cosmic Vibration, or Aum, structures all physical creation, including man’s physical body, through the manifestation of five tattvas (elements): earth, water, fire, air, and ether (q.v.). These are structural forces, intelligent and vibratory in nature.

    The Shakespeare writer possessed at least a rudimentary understanding of this science, and that knowledge becomes apparent in his sonnets on certain occasions as he broaches subjects similar to the one he is addressing in sonnet 45.

    Sonnet 45 “The other two, slight air and purging fire”

    The other two, slight air and purging fire,  
    Are both with thee, wherever I abide;
    The first my thought, the other my desire,  
    These present-absent with swift motion slide.
    For when these quicker elements are gone In tender embassy of love to thee,  
    My life, being made of four, with two alone
    Sinks down to death, oppress’d with melancholy;
    Until life’s composition be recur’d  
    By those swift messengers return’d from thee, Who even but now come back again, assur’d
    Of thy fair health, recounting it to me:
      This told, I joy; but then no longer glad,
      I send them back again, and straight grow sad.

    Original Text

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    Commentary on Sonnet 45 “The other two, slight air and purging fire”

    Sonnet 45 “The other two, slight air and purging fire” focuses on how the lighter qualities of air and fire play on the speaker’s moods and attitudes, as he muses on the state of his creativity.

    First Quatrain:  Bodily Elements

    The other two, slight air and purging fire,  
    Are both with thee, wherever I abide;
    The first my thought, the other my desire,  
    These present-absent with swift motion slide.

    The speaker of sonnet 45 is aware that his body and mind are influenced by the physical body’s composition of earth, water, fire, and air.  In sonnet 44 “If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,” the speaker had mused on the possibility of rapid movement if his body were merely made of thought but concluded that the gross elements of earth and water unavoidably and necessarily  confine his nature.   

    As the speaker begins sonnet 45, he refers to “[t]he other two” elements, air and fire.  He asserts that his creativity is made of these elements; they “are both with thee.”  The speaker’s thought resembles air, and his desire resembles fire, and both elements become metaphors for the nature of creativity.  

    Those two elements of air and fire possess the power of “swift motion.” They contain and facilitate his thought processes that allow him to create.  It is possible that he is not fully aware that a 5th  element—ether—belongs to this group.  However, he likely thinks correctly of that element in terms of the soul or spirit.

    Second Quatrain:  The Despondence of Materiality

    For when these quicker elements are gone
    In tender embassy of love to thee,  
    My life, being made of four, with two alone
    Sinks down to death, oppress’d with melancholy;

    The speaker dramatizes his situation by averring that at the same time his mind flees out of the “quicker elements” and concentrates solely on the bodily elements, he “[s]inks down to death, oppress’d with melancholy.”  The speaker then becomes despondent thinking only on material existence.  Without the fleet foot of the astral level of existence where creativity abides, he anticipates only oppression and melancholy.  

    The things of the physical world remain pleasant enough at times, but for the soul—and even for the mind—they become oppressive, and the mind must from time to time be relieved with reassuring rest from the heaviness of the physical status.

    Third Quatrain:  The Essential Being

    Until life’s composition be recur’d  
    By those swift messengers return’d from thee,
    Who even but now come back again, assur’d
    Of thy fair health, recounting it to me: 

    The speaker appreciates that the unity of all the elements—the slow gross ones as well as the swift lighter ones—connects his essential being to the “fair health” of his creativity.  Without the admixture of all four elements, the speaker knows that “life’s composition” would not exist.

    While the speaker’s moods may be affected by the complexity of the swings in dominance that play among those elements, his ability to catch artistic poses from them must ebb and flow.  The speaker’s contemplations reassure him that his art will continue to mature while the play of the elements continues in “recounting [the nature of reality] to [him].” 

    The Couplet:  Vacillation Between Joy and Sorrow

      This told, I joy; but then no longer glad,
      I send them back again, and straight grow sad.

    Still, even with this admission that all is well and good and ultimately accepted as reality, the speaker knows he will continue to vacillate between joy and sorrow.  The speaker knows that his mind is a playground wherein he moves as on a giant swing:  from joy to sorrow, sending his mind through the fleet elements and back again through the gross elements, he grows from joy and then again “straight grow[s] sad.” 

    The clever speaker is merely demonstrating his mature attitude that he has earned through much lived experience that sometimes things go well and happiness in the offing and other times things do not go so well and thus some sadness can be expected.   That he possesses the wherewithal to create a meaningful, profound little drama with that simple knowledge likely keeps his mood in check and his creative juices flowing.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 46 “Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war” 

    In the Shakespeare sonnet 46 “Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,” the always perceptive speaker is exploring, examining,  and then dramatically revealing the inherent conflict between the two human sensibilities:  the aesthetic sense or “eye” and the pure feeling or “heart.” 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 46 “Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war”

    The speaker in Shakespeare sonnet 46 “Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence is examining the nature of the conflict that rages between the two important sensibilities that direct his capability in composing his poems and other creative works.  Each poem includes an outer or visual part and an inner or metaphysical part:  the outward part is guided by the “eye.”  The inner part is presided over by the “heart.”

    The speaker employs two metaphors to describe this raging battle:  first, he places the eye and heart on a battlefield; then, he transfers them to a courtroom. As the speaker dramatizes the two battles, he eventually demonstrates how balance and harmony may prevail even after engaging in a vicious, contentious struggle.

    Sonnet 46 “Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war”

    Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war
    How to divide the conquest of thy sight;
    Mine eye my heart thy picture’s sight would bar,
    My heart mine eye the freedom of that right.
    My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie,—
    A closet never pierc’d with crystal eyes,—
    But the defendant doth that plea deny,
    And says in him thy fair appearance lies.
    To ’cide this title is impannelled
    A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart;
    And by their verdict is determined
    The clear eye’s moiety and the dear heart’s part:
      As thus; mine eye’s due is thy outward part,
      And my heart’s right thine inward love of heart.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 46 “Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war”

    In sonnet 46 “Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war” from the thematic group “The Muse Sonnets,” the speaker is exploring and dramatizing the conflict between two sensibilities inherent in the two physical organs of the bodily encasement:  “eye” and “heart.”

    First Quatrain:   Combating Heart and Eye

    Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war
    How to divide the conquest of thy sight;
    Mine eye my heart thy picture’s sight would bar,
    My heart mine eye the freedom of that right.

    In Shakespeare sonnet 46 “Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,” the speaker is dramatizing a struggle between his heart and eye engaged in a furious fight.  The speaker’s heart and eye are battling as the age old conundrum of reason vs feeling:  the ability of the speaker as a poet for aesthetic creation represents his reasoning or mind power, metaphorically expressed as “eye.”

    The speaker’s power of emotion is represented metaphorically by “heart.”  He claims that each would not approve of what the other declares; therefore, they are locked in a “mortal war.” The speaker demonstrates his awareness of the inner struggle that he must abide as he lives a poet’s life engaged in poetry creation.

    This determined speaker will go to any length to understand as well as express what presses upon his heart and crosses his field of vision.  This speaker is so clever that he is able to make beautiful, profound sonnets even as he complains about writer’s block.  Out of abject nothingness, this speaker’s talent retains the marvelous ability to create something grand and glorious.

    Second Quatrain:   The Heart’s Demand

    My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie,—
    A closet never pierc’d with crystal eyes,—
    But the defendant doth that plea deny,
    And says in him thy fair appearance lies.

    The fight carries on with the speaker reporting that the heart is demanding that the poem belongs inside him.  The heart asserts that it shields his feelings—covering them and keeping them out of sight. 

    If the eye is incapable of seeing into the temple of the heart, the heart then will believe that it will remain in first place regarding the creation of the poem.   That heart avows that it need not permit the eye to intrude into its activities.

    The speaker then transforms his metaphor from the battlefield to the courtroom as he maneuvers into a legal metaphor.  He calls the eye the “defendant,” and this defendant is arguing that he is responsible for the poem having a “fair appearance.” The defendant “eye” claims that the heart is perjuring himself in the complaints.

    Third Quatrain:   Engaging Thought

    To ’cide this title is impannelled
    A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart;
    And by their verdict is determined
    The clear eye’s moiety and the dear heart’s part:

    In order to determine the outcome of this battle turned court case, the speaker engages a group of “thoughts.”  However, these “thoughts” are anything but haphazard.  Instead, all the thoughts are actually “tenants to the heart.”  Thus, it will become arguable whether those “tenants” will remain fair and objective.  

    However, it is not objectivity that this speaker pursues; his treasure will be balance and harmony. He speaks truly that this “quest of thought” will render the proper verdict; thus, he will remain satisfied that they will decide correctly how each part—”eye” or “heart”—will play out in his poetry creation. 

    The colorful employment of the notion of tenants and courtroom battle elucidated with great specificity and accuracy the relationship between vision and feeling plays out well in the real world.  Only metaphoric reality can blend into life’s burdens to fashion the quality of poetry this speaker requires of himself.    He can employ his many tools of learning and experience in clever, creative, and accurate dramas that keep both eye and heart in check and in balance. 

    The Couplet:   Balance and Harmony

    As thus; mine eye’s due is thy outward part,
    And my heart’s right thine inward love of heart.

    The couplet demonstrates that the speaker has balanced and harmonized the rôles of heart and eye in his poetry creation.  He determines that the eye will be responsible for the outward appearance of the sonnet, including all the poetic devices such as rhythm, rime, imagery, and metaphor, and while employing those devices, the eye will shape the form of the sonnet. 

    The heart will guide and guard the subject matter and content of the sonnet.  The heart will perform this task while adhering to constraints offered by the eye, lest the poem become maudlin or melancholy, or perhaps even solipsistic.  The speaker has repeatedly and often unveiled his own true purpose for poetry creation: to express his love.  He creates each little drama out of his love for his art and for his subject matter. 

    The speaker continues to report on each little conflict that arises in his journey toward the perfect sonnet.  Each drama becomes a contributing chapter in the story of his art and the unveiling of his resplendent talent.  His adoration for poetry creation remains at the heart of all of his efforts.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 47 “Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took

    Sonnet 47 “Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took” dramatizes the unity of eye and heart, resulting in a fusion, satisfying as it enhances the sensibilities of the artist.  Artistic enhancement remains his coveted goal as he presses on in his creative endeavors to become a profound sonneteer. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 47 “Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took”

    In Shakespeare sonnet 47 “Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker is dramatizing the unity that exists between the “heart” and “eye” of the artist.  He has struggled to understand the nature of this union, and he now realizes to the fullest its vital importance for his art. This union constitutes a quality that satisfies the balance and harmony of the artist. 

    That union also enhances and deepens the perceptions and sensibilities of the creative artist. The deepening of the ability to perceive and then feel furthers the ability of the artist in his rôle as a craftsman.  That artist is, thus,  creatively innovative, and he is also able to organize and sculpt his art in the best possible ways. 

    The speaker, as a man of high adventure and much prior physical prowess in all manner of physical contests, has the ability to grasp relationships between events of being and states of being.  The ability to understand origins and their resulting eventualities offers the artist the capabilities required to wield hand and eye coordination. 

    This marvelous talent is certainly necessary for the artist whose medium is the canvas and paint, but it is equally necessary for the poet to possess such strengths, and this poet is well endowed with those necessary qualities that all artists must possess in order to produce lasting and profound works.

    Sonnet 47 “Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took”

    Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took
    And each doth good turns now unto the other:  
    When that mine eye is famish’d for a look,  
    Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother,
    With my love’s picture then my eye doth feast,
    And to the painted banquet bids my heart;
    Another time mine eye is my heart’s guest,
    And in his thoughts of love doth share a part:  
    So, either by thy picture or my love,  
    Thyself away art present still with me;
    For thou not further than my thoughts canst move,
    And I am still with them and they with thee;
      Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight
      Awakes my heart to heart’s and eye’s delight.

    Original Text

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    Commentary on Sonnet 47 “Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took”

    The speaker is exploring the nature of coordination of eye and heart.  He appreciates and therefore seeks a unity that will consistently enhance his ability to create.

    First Quatrain:   Separation and Unity

    Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took
    And each doth good turns now unto the other:  
    When that mine eye is famish’d for a look,  
    Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother,

    In sonnet 46 “Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,” the speaker began by complaining that his “eye” and his “heart” were struggling against each other.  But he had found their unity by the end of the sonnet, and now in sonnet 47, he continues to dramatize the happy advantage of the unity of eye and heart.

    Because the speaker’s feeling and vision are now cooperating, they are each doing what assists each of them in their continued endeavors.  Sometimes the speaker desires to look at his creations, and sometimes he desires merely to feel.  The speaker now begins his thought in the first quatrain but then waits for the second quatrain to put on the finishing touches of that thought.

    Second Quatrain:  The Fruits of Labor

    With my love’s picture then my eye doth feast,
    And to the painted banquet bids my heart;
    Another time mine eye is my heart’s guest,
    And in his thoughts of love doth share a part:

    As the speaker engages in seeing with his eye or feeling with his heart, his sensibilities no longer clash but invite each other to enjoy the fruits of each other’s labor.  Sometimes the speaker’s “eye” becomes “famish’d,” and he needs to look at his creations, and at other times, his “heart” just continues to sigh with melancholy.

    At such times, the speaker needs simply to bask in the fullness of his love and emotion.  And for this speaker only true fullness will suffice; he will continue to question and cajole for answers from his silent muse until he has vouchsafed a satisfactory response, one that convinces him that he knows that he knows.

    The speaker’s eye is nourished by images of love, and then to the created, well-crafted collection of images, his eye invites his heart.  And at other times, his vision is invited by his emotion, as both eye and heart impart love to each other.  The speaker’s dual nature brings invitations to two separate banquets—one for the eye, the other for the heart.  

    The eye may seem to lavish beauty from mere image observation, while the heart must feel what the eye’s mind interprets.  The speaker is seeking confirmation that his eye remains accurate; thus, his heart will appropriate only the true essence of emotion.  He insists that the unity be genuine and not some phantom he allows himself to imagine.

    Third Quatrain:  Blissful Unit

    So, either by thy picture or my love,  
    Thyself away art present still with me;
    For thou not further than my thoughts canst move,
    And I am still with them and they with thee;

    The blissful unity between “eye” and “heart” results in his love being artistically captured, an act which thus preserves for the speaker the finished “picture” featuring his love.  The speaker’s creations remain with him, and even if his muse roves far from him, his inspirational urges cannot range farther than his thoughts.   

    It is through the speaker’s heartfelt emotion that he remains with the poems, and additionally, they remain with him.  He is, therefore, never without his love, his muse, his inspiration.  Through the speaker’s eye and heart working in tandem, his creations capture all that is vital to him.  The unity of those creations provides him a home from where he never need stray. 

    The speaker’s artistic wholesomeness provides material for his physical and mental, and even spiritual, vitality.  He remains ever vigilant that that vitality continue to provide the lifeline that his talent begins.  Once begun, the sonnet must venture on to become and remain its own vital substance, and this clever speaker knows well that he must seek beyond his mere mental apparatus to retain the tools that will fashion his fullness of spirit.

    The Couplet:  The Heart’s Awakening

      Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight
      Awakes my heart to heart’s and eye’s delight.

    Even if the speaker’s physical eye and heart “sleep” or take a hiatus from creativity, he still possesses the image of the muse that continues to feed his fancy or which wakes up both his heart and eye to all the delightful experiences that he intuits.  The speaker’s vigilance will allow him to watch for the very states of mind and heart that keep both eye and heart in a unified state.  

    This clever and awakened speaker is capable of speaking from an elevated platform, from which he can oversee his workshop of ideas, limits as well as unbounded forms, upon which he will rely but also upon which he will remain dependent.  

    Despite any dependency upon physical beings such as his own senses and his vital heart, this speaker knows he can float eternally on the bosom of creative silence through which he has learned to live and breath his sonnets, and through which he can stretch and bend his mental faculties in all directions.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 48 “How careful was I when I took my way”

    In Shakespeare sonnet 48 “How careful was I when I took my way,” the speaker explores the nature of sham artists and the effects of fraud on an audience.  He implies that the lack of interest in the genuine will lead to disdain for his own art, and he foreshadows the rise of an era lacking interest in and disdaining truth.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 48 “How careful was I when I took my way”

    Sonnet 48 “How careful was I when I took my way” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence finds the speaker exploring the nature of those would-be artists who possess little talent but are filled with bombast and braggadocio. As a dedicated artist and poet, this speaker has taken a vow to dedicate his art to love, beauty, and truth, his favorite triad of valuable qualities. 

    This deep-thinking speaker knows that artists must possess genuine emotion and profound thought in order to create. He has no interest in superficiality that might try to pass as art.  He muses on the nature of art that will endure throughout the centuries.

    Sonnet 48 “How careful was I when I took my way”

    How careful was I when I took my way
    Each trifle under truest bars to thrust,
    That to my use it might unused stay  
    From hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust!
    But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are,
    Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief,
    Thou, best of dearest and mine only care,  
    Art left the prey of every vulgar thief.  
    Thee have I not lock’d up in any chest,
    Save where thou art not, though I feel thou art,
    Within the gentle closure of my breast,
    From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part;
      And even thence thou wilt be stol’n, I fear,
      For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear.

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 48 “How careful was I when I took my way”

    The speaker in sonnet 48 “How careful was I when I took my way” is musing on the nature of those uninspired artists who engage in lackadaisical thinking and whose lack of the heart-felt genuine in art creation may culminate in disdain for his own deliberate, dedicated works.

    Interestingly, the speaker was quite prescient in his prediction; the postmodernist age, faintly commencing after World War I and settling in heavily during the 1960s, has produced the “hands of falsehood” and the “vulgar thief” foretold so clearly in this sonnet.

    First Quatrain:   Taking Great Care in His Art

    How careful was I when I took my way
    Each trifle under truest bars to thrust,
    That to my use it might unused stay  
    From hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust!

    The first quatrain finds the speaker asserting that he has always taken great care as he makes his way through the extensive treasure house of literary devices such as metaphors, similes, images, and other poetic tools offered the poet/artist in the literary world. 

    He has long determined that he will focus only on the most profound issues of human life, and he will employ the choicest words to create the best works of which he is capable.

    This speaker/poet adds that he has remained in the habit of seeking truth thus keeping his art from falling into the “hands of falsehood.”  He has always worked to make sure that his readers are able to trust his art implicitly.  He would not let his creations deteriorate into poetastry, even if many other artists follow that route.  

    Just as a significant number of contemporary postmodernists [1] have sullied the art of poetry and caused its virtual disappearance from wide-spread readership and appreciation, that same ilk also worked their “hands of falsehood” back centuries ago. 

    That time period was during the 16th  century, in which the Shakespeare writer [2] was crafting his plays and sonnets.  The speaker is commenting, often simultaneously, on both lesser talented artists as well as lesser perceptive consumers of art.

    Second Quatrain:  But the Vulgar Reader

    But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are,
    Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief,
    Thou, best of dearest and mine only care,  
    Art left the prey of every vulgar thief.  

    In the second quatrain, the speaker addresses the issue of callow and superficial readers who remain incapable of comprehending the authenticity of this speaker’s poetry; he wishes to alert and inform those who think his gems are mere “trifles.”  

    However, this speaker does remain aware that there will always be those individuals who despise the genuine in favor of the mediocre and even disreputable.  To this dedicated artist, such an unworthy attitude is his “greatest grief.” 

    This speaker is revealing that the aficionado of counterfeit art who has merely a superficial interest and understanding is like a vulture who preys on art as a “vulgar thief.” This speaker cares first and foremost about truth in his art, but he knows that not every supposed poetry lover is dedicated to seeking and understanding truth with the same level of awareness that he is.  

    This speaker’s profound, clever art remains his “most worthy comfort” and his “best of dearest and [his] only care.”  He lives with the presence of mind that the “vulgar thief” will be dismissed in time.  He remains a forward-thinking artist of great ability, and he knows that he can create great art; thus he does anticipate and hope that he will have great readers.

    Third Quatrain:  No Concern with Profanity and Poetasters

    Thee have I not lock’d up in any chest,
    Save where thou art not, though I feel thou art,
    Within the gentle closure of my breast,
    From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part;

    The speaker will not overly concern himself with the profane attitudes of lesser talent.  He remains well aware that he will always be faced with those who enjoy degrading and diminishing the genuine, being themselves base and fraudulent.   However, the speaker will not allow that ilk to divert him.  

    This speaker knows that his most important feelings are kept in “the gentle closure of [his] breast.”  False lovers “come and part,” but this speaker will not be hampered by the fickle, the pusillanimous, and others who lack his commitment.

    The Shakespearean dedication to art prevails in each of his well-crafted sonnets.  The poet’s profound thinking, as well as his mature, God-given talent, continue to inform each piece.  

    This poet’s collection of sonnets bestows on the literary world the highest calibre of artistic endeavor.  Because of many factors, these sonnets remain a first class example of Cleanth Brooks’ “well wrought urn” [3].

    The Couplet:   The Mine-Field of Delusion

      And even thence thou wilt be stol’n, I fear,
      For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear.

    The couplet allows the speaker to summarize his exploration through the mine-field of false artists and false art lovers.   He demonstrates his dismay at those who would deceive, dissemble, and unfairly denigrate.  He reveals his faith that truth will prevail and will prove to be stronger and more resilient than falsehoods.

    As this speaker explores his inner world of talents and gifts, he describes those kinds of fraudulent artists who may become quickly famous and then are quickly forgotten.  The speaker knows that genuine artists work from genuine emotion.

    Yet ,those genuine artists also wish to have their works appreciated by their contemporaries and also for many centuries hence.  The speaker has mused on the nature of his art, so that he may continue to produce genuine works.

    The speaker also reveals his hope that his works will be perceived to be well-crafted and that they concentrate on important subjects; he strives to remain confident that he has produced his best works.  In order to contrast his own commitment to the genuine to those he considers to be merely “vulgar thieves,” he has attempted to describe those that he finds lacking his devotion, those whom he disdains.

    Sources

    [1]  Linda Sue Grimes.  “Poetry and Politics under the Influence of Postmodernism.”  Linda’s Literary Home.  Accessed November 24, 2025.

    [2]  – – -.  “The ‘Shakespeare’ Writer.”  Linda’s Literary Home.  Accessed November 24, 2025.

    [3] Cleanth Brooks.  The Well Wrought Urn: Studies in the Structure ofPoetry. Original Publication: New York: Harcourt Brace, 1947.  Print. Via Internet Archive.  Accessed March 3, 2024.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 49 “Against that time, if ever that time come”

    Exploring possible future losses through abandonment by his muse, the poet/speaker admonishes that procurer of  inspiration that he will do whatever it takes to secure his heart and mind against any possible future loss of poetic motivation.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 49 “Against that time, if ever that time come”

    Sonnet 49 “Against that time, if ever that time come,” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, begins to play out with the structure of the phrase, “Against that time”; he means he will guard against the time when certain events may occur.  The first and second quatrains reveal the events, while the third along with the couplet reveal what the poet intends to do about the results of those events.

    The speaker is addressing his muse in sonnet 49 “Against that time, if ever that time come,” and he is aware and somewhat fearful that at any time, and especially likely in future, his muse might abandon him. Thus, he fears losing inspiration for creating his little dramas.  

    But this perceptive speaker always remains observant and is capable of detecting any change in circumstances, and he, therefore, lets his muse know that he is equal to the task of carrying on without the muse’s promptings.  His confidence may be tested, but his insistence surely gives him comfort as he progresses through his duty to his work.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 49 “Against that time, if ever that time come”

    Against that time, if ever that time come
    When I shall see thee frown on my defects,
    When as thy love hath cast his utmost sum,
    Call’d to that audit by advis’d respects;
    Against that time when thou shalt strangely pass,
    And scarcely greet me with that sun, thine eye,
    When love, converted from the thing it was,
    Shall reasons find of settled gravity;
    Against that time do I ensconce me here
    Within the knowledge of mine own desert,
    And this my hand against myself uprear,
    To guard the lawful reasons on thy part:  
    To leave poor me thou hast the strength of laws,  
    Since why to love I can allege no cause.

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 49 “Against that time, if ever that time come”

    As this talented speaker addresses his muse, he convinces his own will that he is dedicated to securing his inspiration despite any hiatus taken in future by his muse.

    First Quatrain:  Hesitation before Prediction

    Against that time, if ever that time come
    When I shall see thee frown on my defects,
    When as thy love hath cast his utmost sum,
    Call’d to that audit by advis’d respects;

    In the first quatrain, the speaker begins his claim that he is shoring against a future time when something may occur; he hesitates by adding an “if” clause because he does not want to predict that such losses will definitely occur.  He is covering himself, as he muses on the possibility that if certain unpleasant events occur, he will be prepared, and, of course, if they do not occur, he has lost nothing by being prepared.

    But if that undesirable time comes to pass, it will be that his muse looks on him with a “frown” instead of the smile to which the poet/speaker has grown accustomed.  When or if the muse is summoned by fate to behave in those uncertain and unwelcome ways and the muse is no longer bestowing on him the affection—and attention—he desires, the speaker will remain awake to the notion that he has been abandoned.

    Second Quatrain:  Hypothetically, Without Inspiration

    Against that time when thou shalt strangely pass,
    And scarcely greet me with that sun, thine eye,  
    When love, converted from the thing it was,
    Shall reasons find of settled gravity;  

    Again repeating that phrase—”Against that time,” which is becoming a chant-like mantra, the speaker suggests that that future accursed time would reveal itself if the muse would seem to be passing the speaker by without even a nod for greeting, as the poet makes every attempt to continue composing his creations, his sonnets. 

    Instead of the bright clarity that he usually envisions as he composes, he would feel a heavy darkness ascend upon his mind and heart, obstructing his vision for creativity.   The former love that the muse had been bestowing would have changed utterly into a thing that he could scarcely recognize, no longer offering him the inspiration and guidance that he has formerly so easily enjoyed.

    The speaker is still deeply musing, cogitating over possibilities as he goes on verbalizing hypothetically, and also he is holding in abeyance his plan to overcome the possible negativity that might be in store with the loss of his muse’s affection. 

    This speaker feels that timing in thought and deed as they relate to art is vitally important; he knows that if he accepts some first notion without due diligence of cogitating, he might be accepting a path that leads down to perdition or even just coagulated confusion.  Thus, he has the foresight to infuse just the right phrase to place his conclusions in the proper time frame.

    Third Quatrain:  Intention Combating Dryness

    Against that time do I ensconce me here  
    Within the knowledge of mine own desert,
    And this my hand against myself uprear,
    To guard the lawful reasons on thy part:

    The third quatrain reveals the speaker’s intention to remain “ensconc[ed]” in what he knows so well within his own mind, heart, and soul.   Even if his own inner environment may remain dry and barren, this high thinking speaker is confident that his own soul remains superior to all the laws or reasons that anything outside himself could perpetrate upon him, including the subtle separateness from his own muse.

    The speaker does not delude himself that it is anyone other than his own self who perpetrates this rift between his soul and his muse.  His ability to create this tension while questioning it and then ultimately solving the problem that the split causes is just another piece of evidence that this speaker will always remain the consummate craftsman.

    The Couplet:  The Poet Keeps the Upper Hand

      To leave poor me thou hast the strength of laws,   
    Since why to love I can allege no cause.

    The poet/speaker acknowledges that the muse has “the strength of laws” to leave him poor,” that is, without the inspiration to continue his craft, but the poet/speaker still has the upper hand because he has not designated reasons or causes for his love.  The speaker understands that remaining causeless, he (including his talent and poetic affinity) cannot be contained nor denied.

    The Shakespeare Struggle of Muse vs Soul

    In several earlier sonnets, the speaker has been exploring the delicate divergence of his muse from his soul, and in this one, he has continued with a slight variation on that theme.  One might successfully argue that the entire sequence of sonnets (“The Muse Sonnets”  18–126) addresses the issue of the classic struggle between mind and soul, or more colorfully between muse and soul.

    The speaker’s purpose remains foremost to create colorful, yet profound, pieces of sonnet drama.  He has no set notion about how many sonnets he will need, but he does intuit that the number must be substantial.  With such a goal in mind, he knows he will always need a specific theme and subject for each sonnet.  

    With the composition of plays, that issue takes care of itself through characters, conflicts, and even historical events that provide a background from some of this writer’s dramas, but with poems, characters do not fret and strut upon a stage in the same sense as they do in plays.  

    Therefore, the speaker himself becomes the main character, who explores, examines, muses on, and then judges his own being.  By splitting his character into muse, soul, heart, mind, and even physical encasement (body), he makes for himself a veritable treasure trove of characters to employ to keep his sonnets colorful and profound.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 50 “How heavy do I journey on the way”

    In sonnet 50 “How heavy do I journey on the way,” the grieving speaker laments the battle between body and soul—the dualism that even his art cannot surmount in times of trials and tribulation, descending into woe.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 50 “How heavy do I journey on the way”

    In sonnet 50″How heavy do I journey on the way” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker is bemoaning the struggle between body and soul, in which every human being must engage.  Even the artist’s creations cannot alleviate the suffering that dualism causes.  The trials and tribulations that result on the physical, material plane of being will continue to engender woe in many a circumstance.

    The speaker speculates as he attempts to look ahead to the end of his current incarnation.  He tries to console himself, but the beast of burden becomes strong, and he remains in a blue funk as he allows himself the luxury of mourning his state of being. Physical pain can cause utter depression, and mental pain then must become the spur to gouge out that pain through creative endeavors.

    This speaker is usually able to overcome all sorrow as he contemplates his unique talent, but there are times when nothing avails to drive away the facts of biology and it relationship to metaphysics. Mental equanimity is always in danger when such times descend upon one.  It is then that soul power and peace alone can dislodge the pain and suffering from physical and mental sorrows.

    Sonnet 50 “How heavy do I journey on the way”

    How heavy do I journey on the way  
    When what I seek, my weary travel’s end,
    Doth teach that ease and that repose to say,
    ‘Thus far the miles are measur’d from thy friend!’
    The beast that bears me, tired with my woe,
    Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me,
    As if by some instinct the wretch did know  
    His rider lov’d not speed, being made from thee:
    The bloody spur cannot provoke him on
    That sometimes anger thrusts into his hide,
    Which heavily he answers with a groan
    More sharp to me than spurring to his side;
    For that same groan doth put this in my mind:
    My grief lies onward, and my joy behind.

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 50 “How heavy do I journey on the way”

    The speaker in sonnet 50 “How heavy do I journey on the way” is grieving, as he  bemoans having been caught in the battle between body and soul—the painful results of dualism that, it seems, even his art cannot assuage in such times of tribulation and woe.

    First Quatrain:  Addressing the Soul

    How heavy do I journey on the way  
    When what I seek, my weary travel’s end,
    Doth teach that ease and that repose to say,
    ‘Thus far the miles are measur’d from thy friend!’

    The speaker is addressing his own soul through his creativity.  He reports that as he travels through his life the burden of merely living causes him great consternation. The speaker speculates about what might meet him at the end of his life’s journey.  He fears that instead of “repose” and “ease,” he might experience nothing but a giant nihilistic nothingness.

    However, the speaker knows he must continue the journey, regardless of how far from his vaunted expectations the miles may lead him.  All of the speaker’s activities have become life habits, which he speculates that he will perceive to have receded as he ages into decrepitude.  He labels the journey “heavy” because peering into the future brings doubt and worry.

    Second Quatrain:   A Metaphoric Animal

    The beast that bears me, tired with my woe,
    Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me,
    As if by some instinct the wretch did know  
    His rider lov’d not speed, being made from thee:

    The speaker then metaphorically likens his physical body to a draft animal, “the beast that bears me.”  The body “plods dully on,” afflicted by the burdensome weight of his talent.  The “wretch” or his animal-like body seems to intuit that the soul is not interested in speed, but in celestial food gathered in part through the act of creativity.  

    Yet the body and soul contrast even as they attempt to work together. The artist/poet must still acknowledge that his body, or animal, carries that burden that results from the soul’s duty to itself.  

    While the body becomes “tired with [ ] woe,” the soul spurs it on, and the individual who is the result of this composite of soul and body must balance the weight of each:  the physical weight that weakens and ages and the spiritual weight (more accurately “presence”) that does neither.   The speaker/poet realizes that he is “made from thee,” as he addresses the soul, or the creator of his art.

    Third Quatrain:   Angry off Balance

    The bloody spur cannot provoke him on
    That sometimes anger thrusts into his hide,
    Which heavily he answers with a groan
    More sharp to me than spurring to his side;

    In the third quatrain, the speaker recognizes his emotional self that becomes angry when he finds himself thrown off balance in his attempt to appease body and soul.   The “bloody spur” that attempts to prod the body may cause a “groan,” but it is impotent in spurring on the soul.   The speaker suffers more mentally than physically when his talent is under attack from worries and woes.

    This speaker lives more by mental power than physical prowess, despite all of the physical encounters he has experienced.  The battle with sonnet composition remains as great as any fighting he may have had with physical enemies.  He has educated himself through his experience as well as through books and learning, and intuitively, he knows there is a vast difference of degree but not kind between physical and soul power.

    The Couplet:   Physical vs Spiritual Reality

    For that same groan doth put this in my mind:
    My grief lies onward, and my joy behind.

    The “groan” that transpires from the soul’s spurring on the body motivates the speaker/poet to think that his past has been more joyful than his future.  The speaker falls into the blue funk of distorted reality, when too much identification with physical reality overtakes the ultimate authenticity of spiritual reality.

    Ending on such a bitter note simply means that there is, in fact, no end, but that this sonnet will require correction in further piece.  Therefore, this sonnet becomes the origin of a sub-sequence, which remains a natural occurrence in any sonnet sequence.  As the poet continues the sequence, he always finds that one sonnet will not allow the completion of some thoughts which must then stretch out over two or more pieces.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 51 “Thus can my love excuse the slow offense” 

    As in sonnet 50 “Thus can my love excuse the slow offence,” this speaker continues the use of the horse metaphor, as he explores the contrast between body and soul. He demonstrates the power and agility of the mental faculty over the physical.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 51 “Thus can my love excuse the slow offence”

    In sonnet 51 “Thus can my love excuse the slow offence”from the thematic group “The Muse Sonnets” in the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker is continuing his exploration of the relationship between his physical encasement and his spiritual essence.  

    And once again, as a talented craftsman, he is colorfully employing the use of the animal metaphor.  The animal body of physicality moves slowly and with great effort and much time, while the mind can flit hither and yon easily and quickly.

    Sonnet 51 “Thus can my love excuse the slow offence”

    Thus can my love excuse the slow offence
    Of my dull bearer when from thee I speed:
    From where thou art why should I haste me thence?
    Till I return, of posting is no need.
    O! what excuse will my poor beast then find,
    When swift extremity can seem but slow?
    Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind,
    In winged speed no motion shall I know:
    Then can no horse with my desire keep pace;
    Therefore desire, of perfect’st love being made,
    Shall neigh—no dull flesh—in his fiery race;
    But love, for love, thus shall excuse my jade,—
    ‘Since from thee going he went wilful-slow,
    Towards thee I ’ll run, and give him leave to go.’

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 51 “Thus can my love excuse the slow offence”

    The clever speaker in sonnet 51 “Thus can my love excuse the slow offence” continues to compare metaphorically the abilities of a horse to a human body, in his  exploration of the contrasts that play out between a human being’s physical encasement and soul.

    First Quatrain:  A Continuing Thought

    Thus can my love excuse the slow offence
    Of my dull bearer when from thee I speed:
    From where thou art why should I haste me thence?
    Till I return, of posting is no need.

    That sonnet 51 “Thus can my love excuse the slow offence” continues the idea which was originally broached  in sonnet 50 is implicit in the coordinating adverb “thus” which begins the opening clause, “Thus can my love excuse the slow offence.”  Again, the speaker is constructing a sub-sequence in which he will lay out his message over the span of two or more sonnets.

    The “slow offence” is inherent in the nature of the physical encasement as opposed to the mental or spiritual encasements or bodies.  As thought can silently but swiftly move far distances, a physical entity takes great effort and time.   

    The speaker’s body is metaphorically likened to a beast of burden, that is, a horse that carries a rider.  The body is a “dull bearer.”  When the speaker tries to “speed” from his muse, his body is an impediment that only the mind and/or soul can transcend. 

    The speaker then asks the listening muse why he should even try to depart from the muse’s company, and then he remarks that sending a letter is not necessary.  Sometimes this speaker likes to insert a measure of levity into his commentary.  

    Of course, sending a letter to the muse is ridiculous, but he also extends a rather paradoxical suggestion in the term “letter” because his field of endeavor is letters, that is, literary.  Any letter he would send the muse would simply be anything he writes, any sonnet, play, or other poem.  Thus he can claim a double-barreled suggestion that works on multiple levels.

    Second Quatrain:  Allusion to Pegasus

    O! what excuse will my poor beast then find,
    When swift extremity can seem but slow?
    Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind,
    In winged speed no motion shall I know:

    In the second quatrain, the speaker alludes to Pegasus, the wingèd-horse symbol of poetry, to ask the muse what he might offer as an excuse to allow pardon for his slowness.  Although he thinks he may be moving swiftly, he knows that swiftness is but a relative quality.  

    Against a Pegasus, his own slow-moving carcass would seem to drag about. And then too there is the fact that even the swiftness of thought will seem slow as the speaker’s mind is moving away from his muse.  

    Riding the wingèd horse encounters no motion, though the speaker seems to ride the wind.  Despite airy, high-flown thoughts, he makes no headway as he deigns to flee his muse.

    The speaker’s insistence on reality extends to his mental states, which must align if mythological characters are to assist his argument.  He knows that his muse remains fully aware of all states of being, and his own awareness continues to increase and open.  

    If a human body should move as quickly as the mind, then he would never be without inspiration, but he must rely on his mind, and he has come to realize that mental states can become mere tricks of other sensations, as the eye may play a trick as easily as the ear.

    Third Quatrain:  Slow Body vs Swift Mind

    Then can no horse with my desire keep pace;
    Therefore desire, of perfect’st love being made,
    Shall neigh—no dull flesh—in his fiery race;
    But love, for love, thus shall excuse my jade,—

    Again in the third quatrain employing colorfully his horse metaphor, the speaker avers, “no horse with my desire [can] keep pace.”  His slow body cannot match his swift mind, even if the desire is ensconced as “perfect’st love.” 

    Even though the “dull flesh” like a horse “[s]hall neigh” through a “fiery race,” the speaker’s love, that is, the love that is from the soul, “shall excuse my jade.”  Though the speaker becomes world-weary or jaded, his pure soul will transcend that dismal state.

    The speaker has, thus, demonstrated the difference between the physical and spiritual levels of being.  He approaches the spiritual through the mind, which he knows to move much faster than the body. 

    And he knows that only with soul power can the mind speed to any desired and useful plane.  The speaker has again split his conscience into the hopeful and the jaded, and again he will have to take steps to reunite those splits.

    The Couplet:  Living in Soul

    Since from thee going he went wilful-slow,
    Towards thee I ’ll run, and give him leave to go.’

    The speaker declares that from the body’s reckoning of slow and stubborn movement from his muse, he will choose to traverse the field swiftly home toward his muse.  Thus this speaker will allow the body to sink into silent tranquility, and he will live in his soul.  In the tranquility of the soul resides the muse, and this speaker’s duty is to his muse.

    This speaker/poet is happiest when he is thinking of love—the highest point of his thematic triumvirate of truth, beauty, and love; he is most content when he is creating his sonnet worlds that hold his love, precious letters from his soul.    The impediment of the beast of burden, his horse-like body, cannot hold sway over his immortal soul.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 52 “So am I as the rich, whose blessed key”

    In sonnet 52 “So am I as the rich, whose blessed key,” the speaker observes that pleasure is best enjoyed infrequently, as he likens his enjoyment of his own creations to traditionally rare occasions.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 52 “So am I as the rich, whose blessed key”

    In sonnet 52 “So am I as the rich, whose blessed key” from “The Muse Sonnets” in the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker is making a quaint observation.  He has noted that pleasure is best enjoyed infrequently. The speaker cites traditionally celebrated occasions as an example of such infrequent enjoyment.  

    If pageantry were held daily, its force for pleasure would wear thin.  Thus, the speaker is reporting that he visits his own creations only on rare occasions.  His constant indulgence in such enjoyment would also wear thin the pleasure he takes from visiting his creations only on occasion. 

    This speaker continues to find new ways to demonstrate his unique talent for discovering fascinating conceits from which he can dramatize and showcase his creative abilities.  Just as he did in the thematic group, “The Marriage Sonnets,”  this clever speaker continues to perform brilliantly varied acts of drama as he explores the nature of his talent.  

    The main difference between the two thematic groups is that in “The Muse Sonnets” the speaker essentially has only one audience member and that is his own self (soul), which takes various forms, including his muse, his mind, and even the poem itself, which he will often address.

    In “The Marriage Sonnets,” the speaker was performing for at least two individuals: himself and the young man, whom he continues to cajole into matrimony.  But he also kept an eye on the future generations who might read his poems; thus, he was constantly in the process of creating rich and truthful pieces that would delight and edify those readers who would come after his own generation.

    Sonnet 52 “So am I as the rich, whose blessed key”

    So am I as the rich, whose blessed key
    Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure,
    The which he will not every hour survey,
    For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure.
    Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare,
    Since, seldom coming, in that long year set,
    Like stones of worth they thinly placed are,
    Or captain jewels in the carconet.
    So is the time that keeps you as my chest,
    Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide,
    To make some special instant special blest  
    By new unfolding his imprison’d pride.
      Blessed are you, whose worthiness gives scope,
      Being had, to triumph; being lack’d, to hope.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 52 “So am I as the rich, whose blessed key”

    In sonnet 52 “So am I as the rich, whose blessed key,” the speaker is musing on the fact that pleasure is best enjoyed infrequently; he then likens his enjoyment of visiting the products of his own creative writing to enjoying traditionally rare occasions.

    First Quatrain:  Rich in Treasure

    So am I as the rich, whose blessed key
    Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure,
    The which he will not every hour survey,
    For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure.

    The speaker, in the first quatrain of sonnet 52 “So am I as the rich, whose blessed key,” is likening his circumstances to that of a rich man who can afford to keep “up-locked treasure.”   And as the rich man would not “every hour survey” his possessions, the speaker likes to gaze on his creative works only sparingly, lest he lose interest in them.  

    The speaker possesses a “blessed key” that opens for him the locked treasure of his soul.   That blessed key is his talent, his ability to compose, and his poetic creations are the treasure.  He has discovered that he disdains “blunting the fine point” of his pleasure by overindulgence.  This speaker possesses a keen sense of enjoyment and a sharp artistic sensibility, both of which he has discovered require constant care and modulation.

    Second Quatrain:  Forbearance in Pleasure

    Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare,
    Since, seldom coming, in that long year set,
    Like stones of worth they thinly placed are,
    Or captain jewels in the carconet.

    In the second quatrain, the speaker again dramatizes the act of forbearance in the enjoyment of pleasure:  large dinner gatherings occur only a few times a year, for example, Easter and Christmas gatherings, or certain state events that require celebrations—all remain both rare and seldom by tradition.  

    Celebrations remain “solemn” and “seldom,” just as the emphatic jewels decorating a necklace or tiara are “thinly placed.”  (The term “carconet” meaning necklace or setting for gem stones in contemporary English is spelled “carcanet.”)

    The speaker is celebrating and emphasizing the fact that pleasure is best when mildly and infrequently indulged.   It is a human predilection to desire overindulgence in those things, people, and events found favorable.  Yet this speaker has discerned that intemperance ultimately devalues the delight found in their enjoyment.  This speaker’s goal remains to enhance pleasure, not dull it.

    Third Quatrain:  Superior Zest

    So is the time that keeps you as my chest,
    Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide,
    To make some special instant special blest  
    By new unfolding his imprison’d pride.

    Because only occasional enjoyment provides superior zest, the speaker keeps his poetic creations locked away and infrequently takes them out for purview.  The speaker likens his ceremony to the wardrobe that keeps the robe hidden from view, when the owner takes the dress out only on special occasions.

    The speaker avers that through his schema of only rarely indulging in his pleasures he is promoting his wish to make something “special” even more special.   When the talented speaker takes his poem out to review it, it is as if it is a “new unfolding.”  He experiences the pride of accomplishment that is “imprison’d” in the work, while if he overindulged he would blunt the very pleasure he had created.

    The Couplet:  The Blessings of Talent

    Blessed are you, whose worthiness gives scope,
    Being had, to triumph; being lack’d, to hope.

    In the couplet, the speaker is addressing his sonnet:  your divine presence affords the ability to experience both victory and hope because of the rare value that has been worked into your very bering.   The speaker is blessed with a rare talent, and he knows he must temper his appreciation in order to retain the pleasure he experiences from that talent.  

    Through that rare talent, his pleasure finds “scope” for “worthiness.”  That the speaker possesses the poem and all it holds leads him “to triumph,” and between the times of enjoyment, or “being lacked,” he retains the virtue of “hope.”

    Thus, lack becomes a virtue itself but it is a simple lack of intention.  He, with complete clarity, limits his indulgences because he has learned the value of restraint.  And he knows that the same principle applies not only to his talent but to all human events.  

    Through his writing talent and his keen observation, the speaker has learned to temper his senses in such as way as to enhance the very talent that has spurred him on to enlightenment, entertainment, and eventual success.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 53 “What is your substance, whereof are you made”

    In Shakespeare Sonnet 53 “What is your substance, whereof are you made,” the speaker explores the nature of the Divine, as he has examined the nature of his own soul and its relationship to his poetic ability. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 53 “What is your substance, whereof are you made”

    This exceptionally talented speaker has been examining his own talent related to his poetry creations.  He is well aware that his ability to compose sonnets far exceeds that of many who have written before him and who are at that time publishing. The speaker, however, prefers to concentrate on eternal verities.  Thus, he muses on the nature of God and God’s relationship to the speaker’s own soul.

    This speaker’s concentration has been so focused that it has led him to understand the dual nature of the material level of being.  And more importantly, that concentration has led him to at least the early stages of meditation, wherein the soul begins to become aware of it own nature.

    Thus in sonnet 53 “What is your substance, whereof are you made,” this speaker demonstrates that he is becoming ever more aware that the Divine Creator has created all of creation and has inserted a spark of that divine nature into each of His creations.

    Sonnet 53 “What is your substance, whereof are you made”

    What is your substance, whereof are you made,
    That millions of strange shadows on you tend?
    Since every one hath, every one, one shade,
    And you but one, can every shadow lend.
    Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit
    Is poorly imitated after you;
    On Helen’s cheek all art of beauty set,
    And you in Grecian tires are painted new:
    Speak of the spring, and foison of the year,
    The one doth shadow of your beauty show,
    The other as your bounty doth appear;
    And you in every blessed shape we know.
    In all external grace you have some part,
    But you like none, none you, for constant heart.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 53 “What is your substance, whereof are you made”

    In 53 “What is your substance, whereof are you made,” the speaker is exploring the nature of the Divine, as he  examines the nature of his own soul and its relationship to his ability for creating original art.

    First Quatrain:   Substance of Being

    What is your substance, whereof are you made,
    That millions of strange shadows on you tend?
    Since every one hath, every one, one shade,
    And you but one, can every shadow lend.

    The opening quatrain of sonnet 53 “What is your substance, whereof are you made” finds the speaker posing a question regarding the material out of which spirit is composed.  As this very talented speaker begins to address his Belovèd Divine Creator, he is seeking answers from the Divine Reality about the composition and as well as the purpose of Its being. 

    The phrase “millions of strange shadows” refers to the many created things that take their existence and that flow from the substance of the First Cause, Divine Reality, or God.   The speaker is thus attempting to elucidate the nature of the Divine Reality.  This speaker knows well that that Reality exists as the creator and the storehouse for his special talent for creating and organizing his poetry.  

    In his copious collection of sonnets, this extraordinarily talented speaker has long since discovered his soul nature.  He has come to comprehend his soul’s relationship with his talent for poetry creation. Thus this speaker has come to understand the unity that exists between that gift of talent and the Ultimate Creative Force.   

    The speaker then avers:  “Since every one hath, every one, one shade, / And you but one, can every shadow lend.”  The Divine Reality is one entity, but creatures emanating from the Creative Force exist as many. God, or the First Cause, exists as only one “substance”—one being.  Yet, His creatures remain similar to His shadows.  It remains a conundrum to puzzle the small human mind that One Being can, indeed, possess a multitude of shadows.

    Second Quatrain:  The Use of Myth

    Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit
    Is poorly imitated after you;
    On Helen’s cheek all art of beauty set,
    And you in Grecian tires are painted new:

    The speaker, as a poet, is wont to allude to mythological pieces by which to examine his own art.   Thus he remarks: “Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit / Is poorly imitated after you.” 

    The speaker is contending that even the loveliest of manmade creations pales in contrast to the Ultimate Creative Force, Which originally brought them into existence. Divinity remains thus planted squarely on “Helen’s cheek.”  The First Cause can be considered to be newly attired after the fashion of the Greeks.   The speaker is exemplifying beauty as it has existed down through the ages.

    The speaker is contending that the wholesomeness and loveliness of all manmade objects are merely reflections of the works of the Divine Artist’s talent. The Divine Artist has eternally extended his talent to his created beings.

    Third Quatrain:  Beauty Divine

    Speak of the spring, and foison of the year,
    The one doth shadow of your beauty show,
    The other as your bounty doth appear;
    And you in every blessed shape we know.

    Further samplings of divinely inspired beauty exist in nature in the seasonal activity of spring with its new-born green, fall’s multi-colored leaves, winter’s snowy blankets, summer’s pleasurable temperatures.   All these effusions are alluring to the human senses. The speaker then remarks: “Speak of the spring and foison of the year, / The one doth shadow of your beauty show.”

    The speaker then asserts that the Creator remains in everything He has created:  “The other as your bounty doth appear; / And you in every blessed shape we know.”  The First Cause, or Ultimate Force, contains not only omniscience but also omnipresence as well as omnipotence.

    The Couplet:  The Part and the Whole

    In all external grace you have some part,
    But you like none, none you, for constant heart.

    No created part of the Whole can ever claim to be the Whole.  However, every part possesses features that become evident to the senses, despite the fact that the senses can never completely detect that Whole. 

    The Ultimate Reality has never condescended to make Itself comprehensible to the senses.  The awareness of the First Cause, Divine Reality, or God can only be attained by the soul, which is itself a spark of the flame that is the Divine Belovèd First Cause.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 54 “O! how much more doth beauty beauteous seem”

    In sonnet 54 “O! how much more doth beauty beauteous seem,” the speaker is averring that the beautiful are only beautiful as long as they are ensconced in soul truth.  His claim is, therefore, reminiscent of the old adage, “beauty is only skin deep.”

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 54 “O! how much more doth beauty beauteous seem”

    The speaker in sonnet 54 “O! how much more doth beauty beauteous seem”from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence is comparing outer beauty with inner beauty, employing the symbol of two types of roses. As a sonneteer, this writer has continued to live up to his vow to approach his work with sincerity, honesty, and unalloyed truthfulness.  

    This speaker has no interest in the mere baubles and tinsel of outward physical encasement for show. This speaker/poet has chosen the goal of creating works that remain vibrantly filled with truth throughout eternity or until the last poetry reader has vanished form the Earth.

    Sonnet 54 “O! how much more doth beauty beauteous seem”

    O! how much more doth beauty beauteous seem
    By that sweet ornament which truth doth give.
    The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem
    For that sweet odour, which doth in it live.
    The canker blooms have full as deep a dye
    As the perfumed tincture of the roses,
    Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly
    When summer’s breath their masked buds discloses:
    But, for their virtue only is their show,
    They live unwoo’d, and unrespected fade;
    Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so;
    Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made:
    And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,
    When that shall vade, my verse distills your truth.

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    Commentaryon Sonnet 54 “O! how much more doth beauty beauteous seem”

    Sonnet 54 “O! how much more doth beauty beauteous seem” reveals a speaker who continues to find beauty in the truth of the soul.  That he follows the wisdom of the old adage, “beauty is only skin deep,” becomes evident as he creates his little dramas dedicated to love, beauty, and truth.

    First Quatrain:  Inner Beauty

    O! how much more doth beauty beauteous seem
    By that sweet ornament which truth doth give.
    The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem
    For that sweet odour, which doth in it live.

    The first quatrain of sonnet 54 features the speaker proclaiming that beauty is only genuine when loveliness is contained inwardly, as well as outwardly; only both levels of beauty can truly demonstrate the admirable quality called “beautiful.”  The speaker continues by exemplifying his claim as he suggests that human feeling regarding a rose is replete with the philosophical stance, on which he is now elaborating.  

    The speaker explains that even as a rose’s appearance is pleasant to the eye, its sweet smell enhances that outward beauty.  The rose’s odor delights the human nostrils because its petals of beauty are infused with that delightful fragrance.  The fragrance symbolizes the inner beauty of the rose while the shape and color of the petals represent the outward beauty.

    Second Quatrain:  Cultivation and Cankers

    The canker blooms have full as deep a dye
    As the perfumed tincture of the roses,
    Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly
    When summer’s breath their masked buds discloses:

    The cultivated roses contrast with “canker blooms.”  The latter remain the wild-dog roses that grow naturally and are not cultivated to produce pleasantries. The cultivated roses possess “the perfumed tincture,” while the canker blooms do not.  The latter may look pleasant, but they lack the inner beauty, symbolized by fragrance.

    Just as the canker bloom is naturally shielded by its thorns, so is the cultivated rose.  Also “summer’s breath” is said to play over both roses.  Yet only the cultivated rose performs service for humanity while the canker rose goes unobserved.

    Third Quatrain:   Outward Beauty Goes Wanting

    But, for their virtue only is their show,
    They live unwoo’d, and unrespected fade;
    Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so;
    Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made:

    The canker rose possesses only outward loveliness.  Because that rose does not yield a corresponding lovely fragrance, it remains undesired.  Outward beauty alone, again, is found wanting, even in roses.  Lack of inner beauty causes the canker rose to remain undesired for human enjoyment.  

    Thus the canker blooms expire “to themselves,” while the sweet blooms continue to be searched out for they posses both inner and outer beauty.  The rose with inner as well as outer beauty can be transformed into sweet smelling perfume after the rose itself dies: “Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made.”

    The Couplet:    Soul Qualities

    And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,
    When that shall vade, my verse distills your truth.

    The couplet unveils the speaker’s comparison that he has been constructing throughout the three quatrains:  soul qualities are the eternal qualities that remain most important vs the outward garb of physical encasement beauty:  after the freshness and loveliness of youth have vanished from all things on the material level, the essence of that beauty will remain in the speaker’s poems.  He has “distilled” that beauty, placed it in the container of his 14-line sonnet, thus retaining it for all time, as long as people can read.

    The speaker is thus contending that the muse will remain everlastingly young because she functions as an instrument of the eternal soul.  The muse will remain beautiful throughout eternity for that same reason; the muse, representing both the writer’s talent and his soul qualities, is of the eternally youthful and beautiful inner being.

    Despite the natural aging process of the aging poet’s physical encasement, the muse will be able to retain her vitality; she will remain “beauteous and lovely.”  Even as the poet ages, he makes a solemn vow to his own muse/soul that he will “distill your truth” in verse.   

    This speaker/poet will never break his vow of remaining dedicated and mindful; he will never become satisfied by creating outwardly beautiful sonnets; he will instead fill his works with eternal truth as he constructs his poems and bases them on all things transcendental.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 55 “Not marble, nor the gilded monuments”

    In sonnet 55, the prescient speaker is praising his own ability to immortalize his subjects, as he addresses the sonnet itself in order to praise it.  He reveals his prescience in the knowledge of the future importance of his creations for future generations of readers and thinkers.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 55 “Not marble, nor the gilded monuments”

    In sonnet 55 “Not marble, nor the gilded monuments” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker is lovingly addressing his sonnet.  This speaker often addresses his muse or his own talent.  Often he obsesses over the writing process, especially during times of dryness that result in writer’s block. 

    However, this clever speaker always has the resourcefulness to overcome any blocking by simply addressing the issue.  He waxes especially dramatic as he addresses his belovèd poem.

    This speaker always has a multifaceted purpose for each dramatic act.  He knows his poems are praiseworthy; thus he sets out to offer them the highest praise he can muster.  

    The crafty speaker thus insists on allowing his poems to become aware that they are eternal because they are replete with truth, beauty, and love—the speaker’s favorite triad of qualities.  He believes that these outstanding, praiseworthy sonnets will outlast even the strongest building materials because they are born of inner truth which is based on soul reality.

    Sonnet 55 “Not marble, nor the gilded monuments”

    Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
    Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rime;
    But you shall shine more bright in these contents
    Than unswept stone, besmear’d with sluttish time.
    When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
    And broils root out the work of masonry,
    Nor Mars his sword nor war’s quick fire shall burn
    The living record of your memory.
    ‘Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity
    Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room
    Even in the eyes of all posterity
    That wear this world out to the ending doom.
    So, till the judgement that yourself arise,
    You live in this, and dwell in lovers’ eyes.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 55 “Not marble, nor the gilded monuments”

    The speaker builds his strong argument around his bold opening statement, praising his poem, while addressing the sonnet directly in order to both praise it and to laud his own ability to immortalize his splendid subjects without sounding boastful.

    First Quatrain:  The Power of Poetry

    Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
    Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rime;
    But you shall shine more bright in these contents
    Than unswept stone, besmear’d with sluttish time.

    The speaker of Shakespeare sonnet 55 is proclaiming that his poem will remain more powerful than “marble” and “gilded monuments.”   No prince has advantage over a poet when ringing out truth is concerned.  Despite being built of sturdy, hard materials, the statues erected to “princes” will not be able to rival the staying-power of this poet’s compositions.  The poet/speaker believes strongly in his own sonnets. 

    This speaker is certain that his poetic creations will last longer than the stone statues which become “besmear’d with sluttish time.”   A stone or marble monument merely becomes some obscene gesture, as it is contrasted with the written monumental creations of the poet.  

    These written tributes to beauty and truth will remain throughout eternity. This speaker understands that truth remains inspired by the soul; thus it will remain far longer than any physical material.

    Second Quatrain:  A Living Record

    When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
    And broils root out the work of masonry,
    Nor Mars his sword nor war’s quick fire shall burn
    The living record of your memory.

    The second quatrain finds the speaker asserting that nothing can obliterate the written  document that memorializes the subject of his sonnet.  The memory of the poem remains constant and everlasting.  As “wasteful war” might “overturn” “statues” and “broils root out the work of masonry,” still a poem remains ethereal. 

    A poem once written and recorded will maintain itself as a permanent artifact submitted into the record of memory. “The living record” continues to include much more than just paper and ink.  “The living record” will always include the power of thought, which has been born in each human thinking, mind.  

    A seer/poet who is true to his own vision will create living recorded documents in his poems, and each poem will remind his fellows that truth is inborn.  Truth is beautiful; it is also eternal and cannot be ambushed, even as brutish wars that are fought destroy the landscape, they cannot touch the living record of truth contained in poetry.

    Third Quatrain:  Truth and Beauty

    ‘Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity
    Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room
    Even in the eyes of all posterity
    That wear this world out to the ending doom.

    The poem that contains beauty and truth will remain throughout eternity.  Such a poetic piece of art will remain, “‘Gainst death.”  No enemy will be able to gain success against that soul-inspired truth.  This clever, creative speaker is always revealing his dedication to the permanent over the temporary, the real vs the fake, and truth over falsehood.

    The speaker then asserts that the lauded poem will find a place in the hearts and minds of humanity down through the generations that will exist until the world finally vanishes.   As always, this talented speaker has complete confidence that his poetic creations will continue to enjoy lasting fame, as they circulate far and wide across the landscape and down through the centuries.

    Future generations of readers, who are the “eyes of all posterity,” will be appreciating, reading, studying, and commenting on these works.  The speaker possesses an ever deepening faith in his own talent. This confident speaker remains certain that future readers will continue to remain fans of his works as long as those works are in circulation.

    The Couplet:  This Speaker’s Prescience

    So, till the judgement that yourself arise,
    You live in this, and dwell in lovers’ eyes.

    Finally, the speaker tops his assertions by insisting that the beauty and truth dramatized in his poems will become part of the culture of future generations.   The speaker’s future readers will not only appreciate his works but those works will become part and parcel of the culture.  

    This speaker is prescient in the knowledge that his creative works will enjoy many allusions, and quotations will abound that point to the truth and beauty of his tireless efforts.  His prescience has been gloriously validated even up to five centuries after his prediction.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 56 “Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said” 

    Love at the spiritual level of being is the most important subject for this speaker of the sonnets.  The “little songs” do consistently sing of it.  This craftsman is less interested in ordinary love than in mystical love, which transcends the physical and mental levels of being.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 56 “Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said” 

    In sonnet 56 “Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker is describing the love that the true devotee of the Divine Reality experiences.  He is addressing love itself, but interestingly without personifying that valuable quality.  

    In this section of the sonnet sequence (“The Muse Sonnets” 18-126), the speaker variously addresses his talent, his muse, his poem, and in sonnet 56 “Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said,” he is addressing the very subject of the poem, as continues his description.

    This speaker has declared that he is interested only in creating art that expresses beauty and truth.  Thus, he believes and often suggests that love is the most beautiful and most truthful of all subjects.

    Sonnet 56 “Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said”

    Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said
    Thy edge should blunter be than appetite,
    Which but to-day by feeding is allay’d,
    To-morrow sharpen’d in his former might:  
    So, love, be thou; although to-day thou fill
    Thy hungry eyes, even till they wink with fulness,
    To-morrow see again, and do not kill  
    The spirit of love with a perpetual dulness.
    Let this sad interim like the ocean be
    Which parts the shore, where two contracted new
    Come daily to the banks, that, when they see
    Return of love, more bless’d may be the view;  
      Or call it winter, which, being full of care,
     Makes summer’s welcome thrice more wish’d, more rare. 

    Original Text

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    Commentary on Sonnet 56 “Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said”

    This deeply engaged speaker is addressing the subject of love, placing that virtue center stage in his little drama, fitted into his “little song.”  The pinnacle of his trinity of major subjects and delights is love, with the other two qualities truth and beauty featuring strongly in his chest of poetic tools.

    First Quatrain:  The Transcendental State of Love

    Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said
    Thy edge should blunter be than appetite,
    Which but to-day by feeding is allay’d,
    To-morrow sharpen’d in his former might:

    The speaker addresses his favorite subject, his concept of divine love.  He avers that this special love has the remarkable ability to replenish itself.   Sweet love or soul love exists in an eternal, transcendental state, not like ordinary physical appetite/hunger, that although fed, will return again and again.

    Sweet love, however, exists as a perpetual force.  It is ever renewed on the ethereal plane.  Sweet love emanates from the Divine Creator (God) and resides in the soul, as a spark of that Divinity.  It possesses an “edge” that is never “blunter than appetite.”   The speaker is dramatizing this special soul love as he delineates its elongated perpetuity.

    Second Quatrain:  Mystical Intoxication

    So, love, be thou; although to-day thou fill
    Thy hungry eyes, even till they wink with fulness,
    To-morrow see again, and do not kill  
    The spirit of love with a perpetual dulness.

    In the second quatrain, continuing to address “love,” the speaker asserts that this special level of love fulfills the yearning for love as no physical level ever can do.  True, mystical, soul love remains alive, fresh, ever-new; thus that special love can never become tainted or dull.  Without personifying the character of love, the speaker describes the substance of love as concretely as any physical level of being could ever appear.

    One may become overfull of drink or food, but of this soul love, the hunger or desire remains although the lover is satiated.   This  specialized level of “love” is the same as that described by Emily  Dickinson’s speaker as a “liquor never brewed.”  

    The lover may drink his/her fill of this love and still remain in a state of joyful awareness, never becoming a victim of the hang-over, as the ordinary drunk may, but always remaining divinely tipsy.

    The nature of divine intoxication delivered through the mystical implements of the abstract qualities renders that state capable of remaining one of an ever renewing blissful experience—an experience that remains permanent even as it changes from one joyful form to another.

    Third Quatrain:  The Satisfying Permanence of Soul Love

    Let this sad interim like the ocean be
    Which parts the shore, where two contracted new
    Come daily to the banks, that, when they see
    Return of love, more bless’d may be the view;

    With ordinary romantic love, the lovers part and experience emptiness during the “sad interim.”  The lovers may feel that they are separated by space as wide as the ocean.  And when the lovers once again appear in each other’s sight, they think they are “more blest” and feel the “[r]eturn of love.”

    But with soul love, the love remains and fills not only the lovers’ eyes and ears and other senses but affords a self-alertness that allows the lover to remain ever wrapped in the arms of the Belovèd.   No ocean can separate this pair.  They remain on the “banks” of this permanent Ocean of Love.

    The Couplet:  Love of Summer, Care of Winter

     Or call it winter, which, being full of care,  
      Makes summer’s welcome thrice more wish’d, more rare.

    On the ordinary physical level of being where “winter” will bring its chill to even the warmest romantic relationship, the lovers will find themselves “full of care.”  But soul love beckons with a perpetual “summer’s welcome,” even though it is rarer than the vestiges of ordinary love.   The lovers will yearn three-times more strongly for this level of soul love, even before they are aware of that yearning.  

    The speaker has been reminding himself of his inner life, where his trinity of art—truth, beauty, and love—reside perpetually.  As he muses on love with the possibility of losing its glow, he is able to compare love to other qualities.  A metaphorical comparison to an annual season allows him to contemplate the strength of the quality of love.  

    As he makes his comparisons, he becomes capable of distinguishing levels of awareness, levels of desires, and levels of artist necessity.  He has already determined the importance of genuine art and dedicated his attention to his trinities of arts and interests.  

    Remaining for him, however, is the actual creation of that art, and he, therefore, continues to muse on what each quality—love, truth, beauty, genuineness—will continue to deliver to his creations.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 57 “Being your slave what should I do but tend

    The speaker in Shakespeare sonnet 57 “Being your slave what should I do but tend” is dramatizing his relationship with his muse to whom he deems himself a slave.  He emphasizes the importance of his muse as he reveals his dedication to his own special talent.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 57 “Being your slave what should I do but tend”

    In sonnet 57 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker dabbles in a paradox:  while he deems himself a slave to his muse, at the same time, he declares a soul freedom that the very music-slavery affords him.  This speaker is tracing his cleverness back to the same source of his abundant, profound talent.  

    He is exploring his ability from all sides.  He is especially interested in elucidating his own dedication in the sonnet. By allowing that he is, in fact, a captured slave of the muse, the speaker is at the same time demonstrating his independence from all kinds of snobbery, puffery, and buffoonish solipsism.

    This speaker’s poetic toolkit remains a treasure trove of thoughts, feelings, and literary scenarios with which a poet with a perfect-pitch talent can continue to craft colorful, meaningful, and deeply personal yet universal masterpieces in poetry.  His goal of remaining true to love, beauty, and truth always shines before him, guiding him to the best word to put in the best place.  

    He speaks with power and precision—even when engaging in tongue-in-cheek hyperbole—because he eschews all manner of fakery and mere decoration.  His metaphors must perform a vital function in the communication process or else he will allow them to fall away, and he makes the same kinds of decisions regarding all manner of literary devices.

    Sonnet 57 “Being your slave, what should I do but tend”

    Being your slave, what should I do but tend
    Upon the hours and times of your desire?
    I have no precious time at all to spend,
    Nor services to do, till you require.
    Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour,
    Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
    Nor think the bitterness of absence sour
    When you have bid your servant once adieu;
    Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
    Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
    But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought,
    Save, where you are how happy you make those.
    So true a fool is love that in your will,
    Though you do anything, he thinks no ill.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 57 “Being your slave, what should I do but tend”

    Because his muse is vitally important to him,this speaker can often be seen weighing that importance and exploring the nature of the relationship.  Remaining a slave to this spiritual essence allows him to emphasize his dedication to his own talent.

    First Quatrain:  Addressing His Muse

    Being your slave, what should I do but tend
    Upon the hours and times of your desire?
    I have no precious time at all to spend,
    Nor services to do, till you require.

    The speaker begins the first quatrain by addressing his master muse, declaring that he is, in fact, a “slave” to his music talent.    This speaker cannot do anything without permission from the muse.  He has committed himself to waiting to perform whatever the muse wishes at whatever times the muse is ready for his service.

    The speaker declares that he possesses no time at all that is dedicated solely to himself.  He is so indebted to his music talent that he does not even possess a shred of time.   This dedicated speaker also has nothing to do, no services to perform, until the muse bids him act.  His dedication is complete; he has nearly obliterated any self or self-value in favor of this higher power which he allows to possess him.  

    Second Quatrain:  Refusing to Complain

    Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour,
    Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
    Nor think the bitterness of absence sour
    When you have bid your servant once adieu;

    Despite his absolute obeisance to his master muse, this speaker refuses to complain.  He has learned to move comfortably in chains, so to speak.  Unlike the ordinary slave who quietly performs his service while plotting revenge and escape, this speaker refuses even to “chide” anyone regarding his slavery. 

    This speaker does not sulk in bitterness while the muse is away.  He does not dare moan and whine when Master Muse “bid[s her] servant once adieu.”  He willingly accepts his servitude.  

    As the speaker concentrates on and reports all the negative things he does not do, he is implying their opposite:  that he is ever willing to retain this servile station, accepting with utter sweetness any condition which the muse sees fit to lay upon him.  He will smile through all absences and still be smiling and bowing upon the master muse’s return.

    Third Quatrain:  No Jealousy

    Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
    Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
    But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought,
    Save, where you are how happy you make those.

    The speaker does not badger his muse with jealous demanding of the whereabouts of the muse, as lovers would likely do to each other.  This speaker has dignity and independence, even while deep inside the muse’s constraints. 

    This confident speaker continues to behave as an independent human force, not as “a sad slave.”  He never bothers to blight his heart and mind with an imagination gone wild featuring his muse traipsing off and lavishing her time on others.

    The obverse of what the speaker does not do holds especial sway here.  The speaker has closely examined and colorfully portrayed many times in many sonnets the strength of his own God-given talent.   

    The power this speaker possesses and the confidence he displays result from his own self-awareness.  He can be content even when his most important possession, his muse, his poetic talent, takes hiatus, as that creative entity is wont to do from time to time. 

    The Couplet:  Muse as Spiritual Reality

    So true a fool is love that in your will,
    Though you do anything, he thinks no ill.

    Of course, the muse manifests herself as the spiritual reality of the speaker’s intense love, his strong soul love that informs his art.    The speaker realizes that his own worth allows him to “think[ ] no ill” even while his muse seems to be off frolicking elsewhere.  This speaker understands and appreciates that his love is absolutely not a fool but the best kind of genius that will serve him perpetually.  

    The speaker may also be understood to be speaking somewhat tongue-in-cheek, and likely he is painting his attitude as he knows it should be.  He knows he does not really aspire to such gilded perfection, but by insisting a situation is so, he will be able to achieve that perfection as he works toward it.  

    His hyperbolic slavery allows him to speak freely, and his eloquence allows him to create new identities and new attitudes that will continue to serve him well in his capacity as a genuine artist.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 58 “That god forbid, that made me first your slave”

    The speaker in sonnet 58 “That god forbid, that made me first your slave”addresses his muse; this time he is examining the course of waiting for the pleasure of the muse to assist him in his creativity.  The speaker sounds miffed with his muse, as might be expected of one anticipating the arrival of inspiration.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 58 “That god forbid, that made me first your slave”

    As he often does, he speaker in sonnet 58 “That god forbid, that made me first your slave”from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence is addressing his muse.  He is performing this task in his sonnets in order to create his little dramas. In this sonnet, he is examining and somewhat lamenting the process of waiting on the pleasure of the muse to inspire his creativity.  

    The speaker would pray that the muse offer him her services at times that are more convenient for him.  However, this talented, gifted speaker, who always remains aware that the muse will continue to remain free-wheeling and unable to pin to an exact schedule, demonstrates that his impatience can be conquered despite his strong urges to create his art on his own terms and on his own time.

    Sonnet 58 “That god forbid, that made me first your slave”

    That god forbid that made me first your slave
    I should in thought control your times of pleasure,
    Or at your hand the account of hours to crave,  
    Being your vassal, bound to stay your leisure!
    O! let me suffer, being at your beck,
    The imprison’d absence of your liberty;
    And patience, tame to sufferance, bide each check,  
    Without accusing you of injury.
    Be where you list, your charter is so strong
    That you yourself may privilege your time
    To what you will; to you it doth belong
    Yourself to pardon of self-doing crime.
      I am to wait, though waiting so be hell,
      Not blame your pleasure, be it ill or well.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 58 “That god forbid, that made me first your slave”

    The speaker in sonnet 58 “That god forbid, that made me first your slave” addresses his muse, as he is examining his feelings about waiting and anticipating the moment when that muse finally decides to inform his creativity.

    First Quatrain:   Sarcasm Can Be Useful

    That god forbid that made me first your slave
    I should in thought control your times of pleasure,
    Or at your hand the account of hours to crave,  
    Being your vassal, bound to stay your leisure!

    In sonnet 58 “That god forbid, that made me first your slave,” employing a somewhat sarcastic tone, the speaker accosts his muse with the notion that far be it from him (the poet/speaker) to try to control the muse.  

    He asserts that he will remain, by God’s grace, a slave of the muse, a position he does not disdain; yet, he nevertheless will remain in his cogitation mode awaiting the muse’s performance of accommodation to provide him nourishment of thought and inspiration more in line with his own schedule.

    This talented speaker does know that he is merely a “vassal” of the muse, and his own “account of hours” will never move the muse to act.  He might even make things worse by his craving, which will probably be “bound to stay [the muse’s] leisure.”  The speaker’s speculation will drive his drama until he can feel that burst of energetic inspiration that he knows he needs and will thus willingly follow.

    Second Quatrain:  Exaggeration and Melodrama

    O! let me suffer, being at your beck,
    The imprison’d absence of your liberty;
    And patience, tame to sufferance, bide each check,  
    Without accusing you of injury.

    Since there is no cure, the speaker goes on to exaggerate his lot, melodramatically asserting, “O! let me suffer, being at your beck.”  He will always remain at the beck and call of the muse, so he exclaims that he will go ahead and suffer it.  

    He is “imprison’d” by the free will of the muse.  He seems to remain acquiescent to the way things are, and at the same time, he complains about the way things are.  Such tension assists him in his plight to continue his mission of drama creation but also annoys him that he even needs such tension.

    The speaker knows that he must possess and exhibit “patience.”  He knows that he is required to “tame” his suffering heart.  Each time the muse plays coy, he must “bide each check” and not become disconcerted by the muse’s seeming fickleness. 

    His purely human reaction, however, will continue to provide the material needed for creating his colorful dramas, but if he complains too much, he will undermine his own argument.  He finds that he is always in need of balance, and he must seek harmony along with balance just to keep his head above water, lest he drown in melancholy, and melancholy would prolong the bouts of dryness that he has come to suffer.

    Third Quatrain:   The Soul Force of the Muse

    Be where you list, your charter is so strong
    That you yourself may privilege your time
    To what you will; to you it doth belong
    Yourself to pardon of self-doing crime.

    Whatever the muse does must be accepted because its force is soul force, and the human mind cannot understand or control such force or even begin to comprehend its relationship to time.  

    Only the muse can “privilege [the muse’s time] / To what [the muse] will.” Again, the speaker struggles with the issue of balance and harmony of thought and feeling.  Complaining must then reveal the issue, not cloud it.

    So while the speaker can complain, he can also create his poems based on the supposed frustrating schedule of the creative force, and he chides the muse with exaggerated blame, even referring to the muse’s behavior as a “crime.”   

    But this always wise speaker insists that the crime belongs only to the muse; he may suffer it, but he does not have to accept blame for it.  Again, he knows he has to remain vigilant that he not offer too strong his many insults that he cleverly hurls at his belovèd muse, even as he is so often tempted to do.

    The Couplet:  Final Acceptance

    I am to wait, though waiting so be hell,
    Not blame your pleasure, be it ill or well.

    The couplet might be roughly paraphrased thus: “I know I’ll have to be patient though remaining patient is hellishly painful; it is not for me to sling blame at you who will have your way despite my bootless cries!” And by the time it took to reach that awareness and strength to make such a statement, the speaker has cooled down a bit.  

    He still strenuously hates the cruel waiting on the criminally-terminal schedule; however, “though waiting” seems like hell to him, this pragmatic speaker will not ultimately blame the muse but accept her pleasure whether it suit him “ill or well.” 

    It may seem that the speaker is trying to win both sides of the argument, and, in fact, he is.  But he has that prerogative.  After all, it is his own muse, his own mind/heart/soul, with which he is arguing.  Thus, the sole purpose of splitting into a dichotomy is for creating the stage on which he can joust, equivocate, and finally surrender to the beauty and truth that he so desperately seeks.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 59 “If there be nothing new, but that which is”

    The speaker in Shakespeare sonnet 59 “If there be nothing new, but that which is” delves into the notion that there is no such thing as originality.  What any artist or poet creates has already been done—how does this possibility affect the artist/poet? Does it stifle or liberate?

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 59 “If there be nothing new, but that which is”

    In sonnet 59 from the thematic group, “The Muse Sonnets,” in the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker is exploring the nature of creativity vis-à-vis originality.  What implications follow from the premise that there is no such thing as originality?  

    Why should an artist even bother, if he cannot, in fact, truly create anything new?   This speaker’s mind has truly taken a turn for the bizarre.  He is, of course, roaming into territory from which he can return only with speculations.  Clearly, his own pride is at stake here.   

    No doubt this speaker has long thought himself creating original works.  And it is likely that someone has pointed out to him that originality is impossible according to biblical lore.  Instead of dismissing such a notion, however, the speaker muses on it and creates one of his colorful, little sonnet-dramas. 

    What does he have to lose?  If there is truly no originality in creation, at least his poems are new to him.  The speaker still possesses the delicious knowledge that his little dramas are well-crafted and likely to please appreciative  reading audiences many years hence.

    Sonnet 59 “If there be nothing new, but that which is”

    If there be nothing new, but that which is  
    Hath been before, how are our brains beguil’d,
    Which, labouring for invention, bear amiss
    The second burden of a former child!
    O! that record could with a backward look,
    Even of five hundred courses of the sun,
    Show me your image in some antique book,
    Since mind at first in character was done!  
    That I might see what the old world could say 
    To this composed wonder of your frame;
    Whe’r we are mended, or whe’r better they,
    Or whether revolution be the same.
      O! sure I am, the wits of former days
      To subjects worse have given admiring praise.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 59 “If there be nothing new, but that which is”

    The speaker in this sonnet is contemplating the idea true originality may not exist.  What artists create is already in existence—how does this fact affect the artist?  Or does the very claim itself simply result from a paradox?

    First Quatrain:  Nothing New

    If there be nothing new, but that which is  
    Hath been before, how are our brains beguil’d,
    Which, labouring for invention, bear amiss
    The second burden of a former child!

    In sonnet 59, the claim, “there is no new thing under the sun” (Ecclesiastes 1:9), finds expression in the speaker’s assertion, “If there be nothing new, but that which is / Hath been before,” and he says if this assertion is true, how odd it is that we become enthralled after bringing forth a re-creation. 

    It seems odd at first that a creative artist would consider himself creative, if, in fact, he were merely creating what he, or someone else, earlier had already created.  Is that not the very definition of copyright infringement or plagiarism?  While ideas can be plagiarized, they cannot be copyrighted.  

    One cannot copyright an idea, only the form in which the idea is displayed or revealed. This speaker’s concern is, in fact, somewhat trivial.  As long as he is not directly or indirectly influenced by an already written text before him, he is not subject to his notion that “beguil’d” brains are merely giving birth a second time to a “former child.” 

    The issue of form vs content becomes a sticky one when applied to plagiarism.  While ideas cannot be copyrighted, they are often so tightly bound up in the form in which they have appeared that a copied text—which does reveal plagiarism— can be revealing that the thief who stole the text is also stealing an idea.

    Second Quatrain:   Sonnet Doppelgänger

    O! that record could with a backward look,
    Even of five hundred courses of the sun,
    Show me your image in some antique book,
    Since mind at first in character was done! 

    The speaker yearns to look back in some “antique book” and see the corresponding sonnet that came before his own.  He wonders what the earlier version would be like, what people thought and said about the older version.

    Because “mind at first in character was done,” he has to wonder how many returns of that sun, under which there is nothing new, perhaps “five hundred courses” or even more, might have elapsed since the similar artist created a similar verse, which now renders his own a mere “second burthen.”  

    The speaker has obviously taken the notion to a seemingly logical but factually absurd conclusion.  The fact that nothing new exists does not mean that if he writes a sonnet in 1590, there already exists an exact sonnet that was written around 1090.  The clever speaker, alas, likes to play around with notions—whether they correspond to reality or whether they tilt reality to a new vision.

    Third Quatrain:   The Evolving Sonnet Form

    That I might see what the old world could say 
    To this composed wonder of your frame;
    Whe’r we are mended, or whe’r better they,
    Or whether revolution be the same.

    The concerned speaker muses on what “the old world could say” about the sonnet form, “wonder of your frame.”  He wonders if his generation has improved on the form or if they were actually better at it long ago.   Or there is also, of course, the possibility that the former and the latter are equal in stature.

    The artist cannot help but wonder about the technical advances that he observes.  He may be tempted to think his own modern methods are surely superior. However, the speaker knows that he has no way of judging them, because written records are deleted from the cosmos after several hundred centuries have passed.

    The speaker has now brought his ideas back to an area of possibility as he addresses the issue of the form itself and not its exact duplicate.  Whether the sonnet form itself has improved offers a useful and logical issue for contemplation.

    The Couplet:  The Literary Wit

     O! sure I am, the wits of former days
      To subjects worse have given admiring praise.

    In the couplet, the speaker quips that his attempt to match wits with earlier forms of his art is not as impractical as one might first think.  The clever speaker asserts that worse subjects have been admired, even praised.  This speaker then finds solace in all of his musings, even if he cannot make absolute conclusions.  

    The speaker’s muse remains intact, even if he cannot claim absolute originality in his creations.  The speaker can remain fairly assured that the notion of no two things in the cosmos being exactly alike is playing in his favor.

    Thus, the speaker has brought the conundrum to an end by asserting another widely bandied about paradox.  One would have to wonder about the disconnect between the idea that nothing is ever original and no two things are ever exactly alike.  

    Instead of clearly elucidating both concepts, however, he merely shrugs his shoulders and avers that people have admired such ideas despite their inability to prove them right or wrong.  As a poet, he is merely creating his little dramas, not concocting some scientific study filled with equations and numbers.  Letters suit him just fine.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 60 “Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore”

    In Shakespeare sonnet 60, the speaker is once again examining the ravages of time on all created entities and his refusal to accept those ravages as a final destruction. The speaker’s poetry lends an element of timelessness and depth to the natural progression of time’s deteriorating effect. 

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 60 “Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore”

    This clever sonneteer has many times addressed the issue of the passage of time and how it leads to degeneration and decay of both mind and body. In sonnet 60 “Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker is once again insisting that his sonnets and other literary creations will essentially bestow immortality on his subjects.

    By encasing the things he loves in the amber of the sonnet,  the speaker is essentially obviating the inherent progression imposed by the natural forces that lead all created things, including human bodies, to ugliness, decay, and death.  

    Sonnet 60 “Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore”

    Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
    So do our minutes hasten to their end;
    Each changing place with that which goes before,
    In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
    Nativity, once in the main of light,
    Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crowned,
    Crooked eclipses ‘gainst his glory fight,
    And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.
    Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth
    And delves the parallels in beauty’s brow,
    Feeds on the rarities of nature’s truth,
    And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow:
    And yet to times in hope, my verse shall stand
    Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 60 “Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore”

    Shakespeare sonnet 60 “Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore” finds the speaker musing on the ravages of time.  He remains reluctant to accept those ravages, and through the creation of his poetry, he constructs a defense against total annihilation.

    First Quatrain:  Time Like Ocean Waves

    Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
    So do our minutes hasten to their end;
    Each changing place with that which goes before,
    In sequent toil all forwards do contend.

    The first quatrain finds the speaker likening each individual human being’s time to the waves of the ocean, which continuously roar and roll onto the land fronting the waters.  He asserts that, as the waves behave, so do the periods of time that human beings possess as they quickly reach the finality of their days.  Rather than simply moving in a leisurely pace, those waves and therefore time speed on rapidly, that is, they “hasten.”   

    This observation demonstrates that this speaker is not a young man but rather he is a mature individual, who is seasoned in life and who has existed on this earth at a time period commensurate with the ability to know that human life on the physical plane quickly comes to an end.

    This mature, experienced speaker further has noticed that the “minutes” flow rapidly as do the waves of the ocean, and as everything moves forward, it is replacing that which precedes it, for example, each minute is replaced by another minute the same way that each continuing wave is replaced by another wave as it moves to the ocean’s shore.

    Second Quatrain:   Desire for Maturity

    Nativity, once in the main of light,
    Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crowned,
    Crooked eclipses ‘gainst his glory fight,
    And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.

    After being born into this world, each young human being feels that life moves slowly from youth to adulthood; virtually all youthful folks yearn to be more mature as they are growing and maturing, slowly but surely.

    Those youthful individuals may possess the notion that they are and will remain invincible, but then they find that they must face situations that tell them they may not remain as strong and sturdy as they have thought themselves to be.  Trials and tribulations soon begin to accrue, and they speak again to the nature of human invincibility.

    Youthful folks invariably come face to face with adversity in spite of their possession of an abundance of talents and abilities; they must battle against the newly acquired fact that they are actually growing old, and that their bodies are transforming from their glowing youthfulness to an aging maturity that seeks more from their efforts than mere romantic foolishness.  

    The same element of “Time” that they were handed upon their birth then appears to be confusing to them as they become addled and befuddled.  Life’s precious gift then transforms into a heavy burden which must be dealt with in order to attain knowledge of the true purpose for living.

    Third Quatrain:   A Mournful Complaint

    Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth
    And delves the parallels in beauty’s brow,
    Feeds on the rarities of nature’s truth,
    And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow:

    The speaker continues his mournful complaint as he asserts that “Time” converts youth by carving those telling lines in the forehead and around the eyes, those facial wrinkles which serve as a symbol for growing old.   The surety of nature seems to be usurped by the passage of time without regard to how “rare” the individual’s special gift or loveliness might have been.  

    Individuals are born with unique physical assets and mental talents, but it matters not at all what those physical/mental  assets/gifts/talents are, for everything within the purview of the mayic force will face decay and death.  Colorfully and dramatically, the speaker likens time’s cutting down youth to a mower whacking down weeds with a scythe.  

    The speaker stresses this fact that life is fleeting as he dramatizes and portrays the process through repeated metaphoric employment.   The speaker understands that human beings experience this phenomenon uniquely but very intensely, and he exploits the issue dramatizing it without mercy.

    The Couplet:   Softer and Gentler

    And yet to times in hope, my verse shall stand
    Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

    The final lines serve to soften some of the speaker’s earlier intensity.  What was blood and guts now becomes a soft gentle exercise in breathing:  Even though the punishing hand of time may continue in full force against all that is created, his poems will remain filled with those same things, offering them immortal praise.

    This speaker’s confidence in his ability to bestow immortality on anything he puts into his sonnets remains in place and, if possible, stronger than ever. Time may mow down things, but in his poems they will live as freshly as the day they were born/created.

    Although the speaker and even his poems will take on advanced age, his visage will change, but his cache of poems will remain as young and vibrant as ever.  What he wishes to preserve, he will place in these beautiful containers (sonnets) that will preserve his vision, his attitude, and his profound thought processes. 

    Thus the speaker’s vibrant dramas will remain communicative as long as anyone is left alive and able to experience them.  The people, places, and things that he preserves in his dramatic pieces will remain as fresh as the day they came into being.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 61 “Is it thy will, thy image should keep open”

    In sonnet 61 “Is it thy will, thy image should keep open,” the speaker has found that his muse is playing coy once again, and he finds it difficult to sleep, wondering where the muse is, as he poses three questions only he can answer.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 61 “Is it thy will, thy image should keep open”

    In sonnet 61 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker wishes to blame his lackadaisical attitude on the muse.  He seems to wish he could control the muse in ways that ultimately he knows are not possible or even desirable.

    As the speaker muses on his relationship with the inspiring muse, he eventually comes around to the mundane fact that he alone is responsible for his actions.  The speaker knows he must take up the pen and forge ahead, with or without the supposed inspiration of the imagined muse.

    Sonnet 61 “Is it thy will, thy image should keep open”

    Is it thy will, thy image should keep open
    My heavy eyelids to the weary night?
    Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken,
    While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?
    Is it thy spirit that thou send’st from thee
    So far from home into my deeds to pry,
    To find out shames and idle hours in me,
    The scope and tenor of thy jealousy?
    O, no! thy love, though much, is not so great:
    It is my love that keeps mine eye awake:
    Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,
    To play the watchman ever for thy sake:
    For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,
    From me far off, with others all too near.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 61 “Is it thy will, thy image should keep open”

    As he experiences difficulty falling asleep, the speaker in sonnet 61 “Is it thy will, thy image should keep open” is finding that his muse is playing coy once again, and he wonders where she is, as he poses three questions only he can answer.

    First Quatrain:  Questioning the Muse

    Is it thy will, thy image should keep open
    My heavy eyelids to the weary night?
    Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken,
    While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?

    Shakespeare sonnet 61 sonnet 61 “Is it thy will, thy image should keep open” finds the speaker commencing with an opening yes/no question, asking if it is the wish of his muse to keep him from sleeping.   The speaker is attempting to ascertain if it is the muse’s desire that even though he is exhausted, he should lie awake envisioning her, instead of drifting off to much-needed sleep. 

    The speaker is refusing to take all the fatigue on himself, assigning it to the “weary night.”  His own mental awareness streams out into the environment as he attempts to brush the muse image from his brain.   He is examining his melancholy in order to determine the cause, as he explores the images that are likely sustaining his ambiguity.

    The speaker then poses his second question that resembles the first; he now wonders if the muse wants to break his sleep and offer only hints that fail to complete his own fledging thoughts. He feels that his muse is even mocking his efforts, and he must confront the effrontery of such action. 

    Although this query bears a strong resemblance to the first, the second question contains a darker estimation of the muse. Instead of simply being an image, it turns into a bunch of “shadows,” and instead of simply being kept awake by the shadows, those shadows “mock [his] sight.”

    Second Quatrain:  Insulting the Muse

    Is it thy spirit that thou send’st from thee
    So far from home into my deeds to pry,
    To find out shames and idle hours in me,
    The scope and tenor of thy jealousy?

    The third question professes scathing implications.  The speaker queries his muse, whom he seems to insult by accusing her of being “far from home” when he knows intuitively that she is always within his own genuine self, even if she sends her spirit to look into his “shames and idle hours.”   

    The question implies that the speaker is feeling guilty vis-à-vis his own lax attitude toward his work.  Nevertheless, it is much easier and also face-saving to lay the blame for his own lackadaisical attitude on the muse’s absence.  

    In this way, the speaker is asserting to the muse that if she would remain with him and stop this constant fleeing, he would always be able to create.  Thus he lays the blame for his faltering at the feet of his muse.   It is her absence that is the problem.  He then furthers his criticism by calling that absence the result of the muse’s jealousy.

    Third Quatrain:  Accepting Responsibility

    O, no! thy love, though much, is not so great:
    It is my love that keeps mine eye awake:
    Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,
    To play the watchman ever for thy sake:

    The speaker then answers his earlier queries, as he recognizes that the liability is all his alone.  He cannot permit himself to be influenced by a muse that he can reject at will; he can receive only a certain amount of inspiration from his muse because “[the muse’s] love, though much, is not so great” as his own.  

    The speaker then concedes that he is the only one who is responsible for his own inspiration: “It is my love that keeps mine eye awake.”  He says, “Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat.”  The speaker accepts his own culpability in his lackadaisical behavior.

    The Couplet: Reason and Accountability

    For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,
    From me far off, with others all too near.

    The couplet finally has the speaker again divulging that he has become too dependent  on a fake image of the muse, as if she were capable of “wak[ing] elsewhere” and “with others all too near.”   

    By stating flatly his own absurd image, the speaker is now giving it an airing that will permit him to overcome his lame excuses and embrace his desired accountability for his own behavior.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 62 “Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye”

    The speaker in sonnet 62 “Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye” takes a critical look at his obsession with his own self but then concludes that that love is really for his soul, a spark of the Divine.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 62 “Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye”

    The Shakespeare speaker employs the thematic group “The Muse Sonnets” (18-126) to examine, explore, analyze, praise, and, from time to time, even to complain about his own predilection for creating art.  

    He finds himself in an amazing yet precarious position as a poet, a sonneteer, and of course, also as a playwright.  Thus, in order to perfect his art, he studies his own mind and heart assiduously and then produces these little dramas that stage his findings.

    Sonnet 62 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence is considered one of the “young man” poems that scholars have thematically identified.  However, it is quite obvious that there is no person, no young man, in this poem.  The only subject in this sonnet is the speaker himself.  

    This poem further supports the claim that this section of the sonnets has been misidentified:  the sonnets do not address or immortalize any young man; they are all about the speaker, his muse, his talent, and his own self-confidence.

    Sonnet 62 “Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye”

    Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye
    And all my soul, and all my every part;
    And for this sin there is no remedy,
    It is so grounded inward in my heart.
    Methinks no face so gracious is as mine,
    No shape so true, no truth of such account;
    And for myself mine own worth do define,
    As I all other in all worths surmount.
    But when my glass shows me myself indeed
    Beated and chopp’d with tanned antiquity,
    Mine own self-love quite contrary I read;
    Self so self-loving were iniquity.
    ‘Tis thee, myself, that for myself I praise,
    Painting my age with beauty of thy days.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 62 “Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye”

    The speaker in sonnet 62 “Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye”—taking a critical look at his obsession with his own self but then concluding that that love is really for his soul, a spark of the Divine—desires to face his physical condition and understand its relationship to his mental and spiritual encasements.

    First Quatrain:  Admission of Guilt

    Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye
    And all my soul, and all my every part;
    And for this sin there is no remedy,
    It is so grounded inward in my heart.

    In the opening quatrain, the speaker admits that he is guilty of the “[sin] of self-love.”  That sin has power over every part of him, all of his senses, his heart, and his very soul, and he feels helpless to alter the situation because “[i]t is so grounded inward in my heart.”  

    Such a love, however, should be directed only toward the Divine Creator, and the speaker seems to be condemning his self-love as he begins his confession.  While this speaker is consumed with the issue of his ability to compose literary works, he often must face his physical condition and understand its relationship to his mental and spiritual encasements.

    The speaker realizes that each of the three body forms—physical, mental, and spiritual—must become and remain in harmony in order for true creativity to thrive.  His desire for establishing the immortality of his art influences his constant study and push to attain the best possible knowledge that leads to bliss in life as well as art.

    Second Quatrain:   More Interested in Self than in Others

    Methinks no face so gracious is as mine,
    No shape so true, no truth of such account;
    And for myself mine own worth do define,
    As I all other in all worths surmount.

    The speaker of this poem might remind the reader of the TV sitcom character Murphy Brown, who once said, “I am the most interesting person I know.” In the second quatrain, the speaker admits as much: he believes that no fellow human being has a countenance any more “gracious” as his own; no other human body has any more worth and stature as his; he has the ability to take account of the qualities of others as he evaluates his own self-worth.

    The speaker is, therefore, more obsessed with himself even than Ms Brown was.  He is worth more than all other people.  He finds his appearance more “gracious.”  His own ideas about truth are superior to others.  He confesses a total absorption in his own self-interests.

    Third Quatrain:  True Self Is the Soul

    But when my glass shows me myself indeed
    Beated and chopp’d with tanned antiquity,
    Mine own self-love quite contrary I read;
    Self so self-loving were iniquity.

    When the speaker looks into his mirror and sees that he looks haggard and aging, it seems that his love for such an appearance defies all logic:  “Self so self-loving were iniquity.”   Nevertheless, the speaker realizes that that is only his physical self; his true self is his soul, and he recognizes through intuition the permanence of the soul’s youth and beauty.

    The Couplet:  Only the Soul Gives Praise

    ‘Tis thee, myself, that for myself I praise,
    Painting my age with beauty of thy days.

    The speaker’s obsession with the physical level of existence leads him to a deep understanding of the nature of life as a fading proposition.  He is enjoined to overcome the dissonance that such knowledge engenders in the hearts and minds of each human sufferer.

    Thus it is the speaker’s soul that gives praise, not his physical encasement, which operates  only as an instrument for “[p]ainting [his] age with beauty of [the soul’s] days.”  Therefore, the speaker’s sin is transmuted into a virtue because he is simply confessing love for his own soul, which is truly only love for the Divine Reality, Over-Soul, or God.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 63  “Against my love shall be as I am now”

    The speaker of sonnet 63 “Against my love shall be as I am now” broaches one of his obsessions—aging.  Though all things physical will age, grow frail, and vanish, his love will remain in his lines of poetry.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 63 “Against my love shall be as I am now”

    In sonnet 63 “Against my love shall be as I am now” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker is once again concerned about loss through the aging process.  He seems to discern, however, that it is only the physical encasement that ages and eventually results in loss.

    The speaker then demonstrates his relief and gratitude for his ability to compose sonnets that will outlive his body.  He is becoming ever more confident that a certain kind of immortality can be attained through his art. Even if this speaker remains unaware of the immortality of the soul, he can find peace and contentment knowing this art will outlive him.

    Sonnet 63 “Against my love shall be as I am now”

    Against my love shall be, as I am now
    With Time’s injurious hand crush’d and o’erworn;
    When hours have drain’d his blood and fill’d his brow
    With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn
    Hath travell’d on to age’s steepy night;
    And all those beauties whereof now he ’s king
    Are vanishing or vanish’d out of sight,
    Stealing away the treasure of his spring;  
    For such a time do I now fortify  
    Against confounding age’s cruel knife,
    That he shall never cut from memory  
    My sweet love’s beauty, though my lover’s life:  
      His beauty shall in these black lines be seen,
      And they shall live, and he in them still green.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 63 “Against my love shall be as I am now”

    The speaker of sonnet 63 “Against my love shall be as I am now” is addressing one of the issues, over which is often  obsesses—the aging process.  Though all things physical will age, grow frail, and vanish, the spiritual quality that is his love will remain in his lines of poetry.

    First Quatrain:  Remaining Ageless

    Against my love shall be, as I am now
    With Time’s injurious hand crush’d and o’erworn;
    When hours have drain’d his blood and fill’d his brow
    With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn

    In the first quatrain, the speaker declares that because of his deep soul love, he will remain ageless—not through his physical body but through his soul’s exceptional talent in creating undying art.   As the talented speaker has many times before, he is now demonstrating the permanence of the soul over the evanescence of the body, which grows old, withers, and then dies.

    The speaker then dramatizes the characteristics of old age:  “Time’s injurious hand” will “crush” and wear out his body, and “hours” will drain his blood and fill “his brow / With lines and wrinkles.”  He continues the drama in the second quatrain.

    Second Quatrain:  Keeping Undying Love

    Hath travell’d on to age’s steepy night;
    And all those beauties whereof now he ’s king
    Are vanishing or vanish’d out of sight,
    Stealing away the treasure of his spring;  

    After his youth has flown by and he finds himself engaged in the ravages of aging, the speaker, whose beauty had shown so brightly in his earlier years, must contend with his own mortality.  He comes to realize that as those qualities have disappeared, they will have vanished like “the treasure of his spring.” 

    The speaker then delves deeply into portraying the phenomena of growing old, as he emphasizes the destruction that aging brings, in order to compare and contrast the value of his always youthful ability to encase his everlasting, undying love in his sonnets.

    The speaker is again celebrating his ability to make art.  By writing his poems, he keeps his love alive.  His sonnets will not come under the ravages of time, nor will they ever be demolished or deemed outworn.

    Third Quatrain:   Making Hay While the Sun Shines

    For such a time do I now fortify  
    Against confounding age’s cruel knife,
    That he shall never cut from memory  
    My sweet love’s beauty, though my lover’s life:  

    The speaker then declares that he is “fortify[ing]” himself “[a]gainst confounding age’s cruel knife.”  In his sonnets, he will engage his love as his flood subject, leaving a record of his love.   And even though the physical subjects that populate the speaker’s poems may die, the record of his love for them will not.

    Again, the reader will note there is no actual person in this poem.  The mention of “my lover’s life” refers to the speaker himself.   The speaker is the lover, and he as lover will die, but his “sweet love’s beauty” will not, because of his talent and ability to portray that love in poems.

    The Couplet:  Captured Beauty in “Black Lines”

     His beauty shall in these black lines be seen,
      And they shall live, and he in them still green.

    The beauty of the speaker’s love will live on because it is captured in “these black lines.”  That beauty will continue to be seen and “shall live.”   Also, the speaker’s own soul’s essence will remain “still green” as his love and its beauty continue to exist in a deathless form.

    The speaker has learned to appreciate immortality as a virtue of the soul (spiritual encasement) but not of the body (physical encasement.)  Yet he seems to keep his grasp on earthly definitions by insisting that he can preserve his love and longing in his poems.  For this speaker, certain affections will remain green with spring because he can dramatize them in his poetic creations.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 64 “When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defac’d”

    Sonnets 64 When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defac’d”and 65 “Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea” may be considered together.  In sonnet 64, the speaker reports that he fears losing his love but is convinced that it must happen, while he presents a possible remedy in sonnet 65.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 64 “When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defac’d”

    This sonnet should be paired with the following sonnet 65 because in 64 the speaker presents his fear and in 65 he shows how it is mitigated. In sonnet 64, the speaker appears to remain levelheaded and earthbound, although he is reporting that he entertains great fears of losing his love. Even though the speaker is certain that this even must occur, he also seems to be implying that a remedy for the situation does exist.  Or does he?

    As readers have observed before, this clever speaker is always striving for the best narrative voice full of images with which to display his current musing.  Despite the bend or curve of his thought at the moment, he remains dedicated to fashioning his argument with the best dramatic force.  Thus, he will often come across as mysterious as he never wants to reveal what should best be held in check until the perfect time for it to be revealed.

    Sonnet 64“When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defac’d”

    When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defac’d
    The rich-proud cost of outworn buried age;
    When sometime lofty towers I see down-raz’d,  
    And brass eternal slave to mortal rage;
    When I have seen the hungry ocean gain
    Advantage on the kingdom of the shore,
    And the firm soil win of the watery main,
    Increasing store with loss, and loss with store;
    When I have seen such interchange of state,
    Or state itself confounded to decay;
    Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate—
    That Time will come and take my love away.
      This thought is as a death, which cannot choose
      But weep to have that which it fears to lose.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 64 “When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defac’d”

    In sonnet 64, the speaker remains earthbound, reporting that he fears losing his love but is convinced that it must happen.  But does he also later imply a remedy?

    First Quatrain:  The Theme of Decay and Loss

    When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defac’d
    The rich-proud cost of outworn buried age;
    When sometime lofty towers I see down-raz’d,  
    And brass eternal slave to mortal rage;

    Beginning with the first quatrain, the speaker asserts four adverbial “when” clauses, two in the first quatrain, each dramatizing the theme of decay and loss.  The speaker avers that he has seen “outworn buried age[s]” devastated by the hand of Time.  

    The mature speaker has seen “lofty towers” taken down and “brass eternal slave to mortal rage.”  Through war and civil havoc, the speaker has observed the destruction that comes to all things in the mortal world.

    This well-traveled and keenly-observant speaker can report his vast experience in order to summon the logic behind all of his claims.  He remains well acquainted with the world of delusion with its pairs of opposites: its building up and its tearing down, its profundity and its shallowness—all worth exploring with a sharp eye and brain that is capable of turning such physical realities into art that can represent the mystical.

    Second Quatrain:   The Struggle of Opposite Natures

    When I have seen the hungry ocean gain
    Advantage on the kingdom of the shore,
    And the firm soil win of the watery main,
    Increasing store with loss, and loss with store;

    The speaker then pivots to the natural events of the sea that range upon the shore, as he continues with the third “when” clause.  The speaker has experienced observing the waxing and waning of the waves as they beat upon the shore and bring about the erosion of the sand; however, the land always returns the onslaught, fighting back and regaining control from the waves.  

    The waves bring their force upon the land, and the land again offers its force unto the waves in an everlasting struggle of opposite natures. Of course, all of the natural creation is composed of sets of opposites, or its existence would be impossible.

    The artist’s ability to observe always serves him well, but the artist also needs the ability to maneuver what he observes in order to shape and frame the raw observed material into the imagery that will confirm his claims.  

    The expository nature of a creative piece must always work in tandem with the impressionistic nature or else no sense can be made of the work.  This loss of integration of mind and heart caused untold damage to the postmodern art world, as artists lost their ability to connect thoughts and things. 

    Third Quatrain:  Learning from Ruin

    When I have seen such interchange of state,
    Or state itself confounded to decay;
    Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate—
    That Time will come and take my love away.

    The final “when” clause discloses that the speaker has seen nations go down to decay. The speaker then reveals that when he has taken all of this decay and devastation into account, he has learned from all of this “ruin” “to ruminate” and conclude, “Time will come and take my love away.” 

    From all of his observation and experience of watching things be spoiled, destroyed, wrecked, and broken, the speaker has been able to draw a certain conclusion about how the physical world operates.  

    From the young child who thinks his world will yield to his joys eternally to the old man who has seen perpetual destruction, the mind of man comes to realize the evanescence of all physical existence.  

    The speaker while feeling intensely the devastation of such destruction, nevertheless, remains capable of molding those thoughts, feelings, and things into beauty, the one quality that his art will always return to him untold pleasure and comfort.

    The Couplet:   Logical Conclusion

      This thought is as a death, which cannot choose
      But weep to have that which it fears to lose.

    In the couplet, the speaker is remarking that like death, pain of loss remains a human burden upon the mind and heart.  The speaker has discerned that if one cannot escape “death” and loss, then one has no choice but to be driven to the dread of losing what he has.  

    The sonnet leaves the reader with an empty feeling, which is unlike most of the other sonnets.  The speaker habitually poses problems but almost always solves them.   This sonnet leaves the reader with a loss that is not restored until the next sonnet.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 65 “Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea”

    While sonnet 64 “When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defac’d” lamented the decay of the physical/material world, sonnet 65 Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea” provides the remedy that mitigates the ravages of that decay.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 65 “Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea”

    One of the many strategic structures that are employed in the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence is allowing his speaker to posit a question, often seemingly a rhetorical question, and then offering a likely answer. Sonnet 64 allows the speaker to reveal the problem of time ravaging the entities in life for which human beings  hold affection. 

    Following in the sonnet 65, the speaker offers the answer to the question, solving that universal problem.  For this speaker, any answer  to any question may not be able to move far beyond the goals of his sonnet sequence:  the muse, his talent, and his “black ink”  that he employs to stretch across the page with his erudite, dramatic sonnets.

    Once again, this brilliant speaker reveals his versatility in crafting scenes in which he is able to perform his mastercraftsmanship.  He retains the search for fresh imagery, luminous colors, and dulcet tones.  He often provides imagery that appeals to the five senses.  Readers, therefore, cannot do otherwise than experience each dramatic work with a complete set of emotional responses.

    Sonnet 65 “Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea”

    Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea  
    But sad mortality o’ersways their power,
    How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
    Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
    O! how shall summer’s honey breath hold out
    Against the wrackful siege of battering days,
    When rocks impregnable are not so stout,  
    Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?
    O fearful meditation! where, alack,
    Shall Time’s best jewel from Time’s chest lie hid?
    Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back?
    Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?  
      O! none, unless this miracle have might,
      That in black ink my love may still shine bright.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 65 “Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea”

    Sonnet 64 “When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defac’d” lamented the decay of the physical/material world, and sonnet 65 “Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea” supplies the cure, mitigating the destruction of that physical degradation.  

    Thus, this sonnet sequence continues to put forward the speaker on his path to complete awareness.  He employs as his tools the qualities of beauty, truth, and love with him as he contemplates and masterfully directs his own purpose in  life.

    First Quatrain:  The Strong Cosmos

    Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea  
    But sad mortality o’ersways their power,
    How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
    Whose action is no stronger than a flower?

    The speaker of Shakespeare sonnet 65 begins by cataloguing a few of the sturdy physical attributes of the cosmos, such as brass, stone, and earth, along with the mighty ocean. But he bemoans their demise, which always remains in the offing. He acknowledges but decries the fact that those entities that appear to be  so sturdy and lasting are all cut down by the forces of “mortality.”  

    By first focusing on the ways of nature, he can then speak to that nature with a human response, seeking to rise above those ravages which nature foists upon natural objects, including the human frame.

    Then the speaker asks how beauty can conquer the damaging effects of time, as beauty appears to be a quality that is as frail as any flower.  Thus the question ultimately asks, How might beauty overcome the damage brought about by the aging process and Time, as beauty offers no opposing force?  

    Beauty’s force remains less than that of a flower, which also shows beauty but no power to struggle.  The speaker has noticed the lack of struggle in the flower; he is habituated to human struggling and contemplates that lack in the lower evolved members on the evolutionary scale.

    Second Quatrain:  Symbolic Summer

    O! how shall summer’s honey breath hold out
    Against the wrackful siege of battering days,
    When rocks impregnable are not so stout,  
    Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?

    The speaker continues his questioning about the brief duration of summer and how that bright, warm season becomes wrecked through “battering.”  Summer becomes a symbol for all the bright and glorious things of the planet—things which give pleasure.  Still it remains a fact that the summer season endures for only four months—a very brief period of time by human reckoning. 

    Even rocks that appear to be strong even “impregnable,” in actuality, “are not so stout.”  Even “gates of steel” are not strong enough to compete with ruinous Time, who oversees the destruction of  all matter.  The speaker’s imagery hold natural as well as human-made items to show that all things remain under the influence of duality—the pairs of opposites.

    Third Quatrain:  Commanding a Response

    O fearful meditation! where, alack,
    Shall Time’s best jewel from Time’s chest lie hid?
    Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back?
    Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?  

    The speaker offers an exclamation, asking his muse, and with special emphasis demands to understand where Time is hiding his “best jewel.”  Where does Time retain the items that he truly wishes to keep? The speaker wonders if there is some “strong hand” that is able to slow the rapid pace of destruction and decay.  The speaker’s questions remains not simply rhetorical, because those inquiries imply intensely that a proper solution to the thorny problem must exist.  

    The speaker then tosses out an additional inquiry regarding the possible existence of some power that can slow down or stop the waste of “beauty.”  By pressing forth these questions, this speaker is implying that he is aware of how to complete the performance that will retard Time’s swift escaping foot and mollify Time’s spoilage of beauty.  He is gently offering a hint at answers that allow him to stay humble yet profound, as he puts forward his revealing questions with their equally revealing answers.

    The Couplet:  The Force of Creative Writing

     O! none, unless this miracle have might,
      That in black ink my love may still shine bright.

    The speaker appears to be confessing that nothing can prevent Time from deconstructing love and beauty; thus, he exclaims, “O!  none,” but immediately draws back from this claim by asserting, “unless this miracle have might.”  So, what “miracle” might that be?  

    Naturally, he is referring to the power and force of his creative works—his sonnets and plays.  With his “black ink,” he will keep on dramatizing and immortalizing his love, and that love will continue to “shine bright,” undeterred  by Time’s ravaging demolition.

    Thus, the speaker is offering the notion that a certain kind of immortality can be acquired through his poetry.  Because of such an vital task, the speaker will continue to soldier on, craving his dramas and his poems that not only put on display his valuable supply of learning but that also will continue to retain that knowledge and learning framed in beautiful, truthful, and enduring language.  

    To the speaker, his art is his life, and his life is his art.  Those two sacred possessions influence him to keep on striving to create his best creative works.  As he keeps on creating, he keeps on growing even more brilliant, even more poised,  and even more spiritual as he travels his path to the reality of transcendence.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 66 “Tir’d with all these, for restful death I cry”

    In sonnet 66 “Tir’d with all these, for restful death I cry,” the speaker exaggerates his state of mind, claiming to wish for death as a means of delivery from the negativity existing on the earthly plane. His talent reveals a mind that at times can be quite prescient as well as keenly astute.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 66 “Tir’d with all these, for restful death I cry”

    The clever speaker in Shakespeare sonnet 66 “Tir’d with all these, for restful death I cry” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence offers a wish that turns out to be quite an exaggeration in service of a main point.  

    As the speaker offers a lucid and valid condemnation of some of the insane thoughts and movements that lead to mediocrity and actual devaluation of honored traditions, he dramatizes again his own talent for creating little dramas in his sonnets. The speaker’s desire to leave all Weltschmerz behind is, however, alleviated by the very act of writing about that world sorrow.

    Sonnet 66 “Tir’d with all these, for restful death I cry”

    Tir’d with all these, for restful death I cry
    As to behold desert a beggar born,
    And needy nothing trimm’d in jollity,  
    And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
    And gilded honour shamefully misplac’d,
    And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
    And right perfection wrongfully disgraced,
    And strength by limping sway disabled,
    And art made tongue-tied by authority,
    And folly—doctor-like—controlling skill,
    And simple truth miscall’d simplicity,  
    And captive good attending captain ill:
      Tir’d with all these, from these would I be gone,
      Save that, to die, I leave my love alone.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 66 “Tir’d with all these, for restful death I cry”

    In sonnet 66 “Tir’d with all these, for restful death I cry,” the speaker is exaggerating his growing weariness with all the negativity that exists on the earthly plane—so much so that he wishes for “restful death” —which, however, holds a negative aspect.

    First Quatrain:   A Brash Claim

    Tir’d with all these, for restful death I cry
    As to behold desert a beggar born,
    And needy nothing trimm’d in jollity,  
    And purest faith unhappily forsworn,

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 66, the speaker announces his brash claim that he “cries” for “restful death.”   He makes that cry because he has become fatigued from facing earthly trials and tribulations that are present in various and sundry issues of life in general.  

    The speaker employs the remaining lines of the poem to catalogue those issues that he has become tired of, and he also wishes to show why these things and issues weigh so heavy on his heart and mind.

    First, the speaker complains that people who appear deserving of a good life are often born into and saddled with abject poverty.  Having observed this situation and attempted to understand the implications arising therefrom, the speaker has been rendered tired and weary.   

    The speaker then announces the next installment from his catalogue which contrasts with the initial offering:  those who appear less deserving are many times surrounded with the good things of life, as those with a better claim go without. 

    The speaker next complains that those who live in faith are often dragged down by circumstances, despite their continued righteousness.   The speaker dramatically emphasizes the contrasts that he has observed which exist on the physical plane, unveiling his disapproval of one while increasing the worth of its opposite.

    Second Quatrain:   Catalogue of Grievances

    And gilded honour shamefully misplac’d,
    And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
    And right perfection wrongfully disgraced,
    And strength by limping sway disabled,

    In the second quatrain, the speaker continues his list-catalogue of grievances:  honor is mislaid; virtue is cheapened and prostituted; perfection fails to reach its goal; strength remains “disabled” as it goes “limping sway.” 

    The speaker is reporting generalities that remain accurate for all generations down through history.  There is ever a contemporary besmirching of honor that the speaker deems as shameful. 

    Third Quatrain: Galled by Weltschmerz

    And art made tongue-tied by authority,
    And folly—doctor-like—controlling skill,
    And simple truth miscall’d simplicity,  
    And captive good attending captain ill:

    The speaker pressed on with his list of observations of things that gall him to Weltschmerz: art is prostituted by disingenuous movements; folly is perpetuated by “doctor-like” robotic clowns; “simple truth” is rendered simplistic by being falsely labeled “simplicity”; good is dispossessed by bad.

    Contemporary examples of “art made tongue-tied by authority” are the movements in modernist and postmodernist art that misappropriate the stage once valiantly held by craftsmanship and the search for truth, replacing former excellence and genuine achievement with self-serving mumbo jumbo.

    The speaker in sonnet 66 seems to have been especially prescient in this matter.  Five centuries after this poet was writing sees the honor of the Nobel Prize in Literature degraded by being bestowed on Bob Dylan, a plagiarist, whose claim to fame is not even genuine literature but pop(ular) music. 

    Thus is the influence of postmodernism; other examples of postmodernist gibberish posing as art include the folly of Robert Bly, the drivel of Charles Bernstein, and the gloom-filled posturing of Adrienne Rich.

    The Couplet:  Weary of Hypocrisy

     Tir’d with all these, from these would I be gone,
      Save that, to die, I leave my love alone.

    The speaker again repeats that he is weary of all the hypocrisy that results from disingenuity and duplicity.  He again shares the thought that he would prefer to die and be rid of this world of woe and lies—except for one very significant reason:  he would not relish leaving behind his love.  

    This speaker’s most valued possession remains the divinely inspired gift of his brilliant talent.  He employs this exalted talent to exalt his “love.”  In the final analysis, this creative and deep-thinking speaker has simply exaggerated his desire for death in order to serve to highlight his little drama displaying worldly contrasts.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 67 “Ah! wherefore with infection should he live”

    The speaker in Shakespeare sonnet 67 addresses the issue of inferior talent that seems to thrive alongside its superior, an irksome situation for the genuine poet. The sonnet features four rhetorical questions, each answered in the drama created by the genuinely talented poet.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 67 “Ah! wherefore with infection should he live”

    The speaker in Shakespeare sonnet 67 “Ah! wherefore with infection should he live” addresses the Cosmic Presence, the Divine Belovèd, or God.  He wants to underscore the incongruity of such a perfect talent as his existing in such a flawed world.   

    This creative and talented speaker may seem somewhat arrogant, yet he knows that his talent comes from the Perfect Eternal.  The difference between arrogance and truth may sometimes seem to be in the eye of the beholder, but the outcome will justify the one on the side of genuine truth.

    Genuine poets in every age have decried the presence of their inferiors.  While true poets delight in those of equal or superior talent, they cringe at the poetasters who offer only a “shadow” art. 

    In four rhetorical questions, the speaker offers a spate of lucid criticism that describes vividly the annoyance rendered by the presence of the inferior spewings of literary charlatans and poetasters.

    Sonnet 67 “Ah! wherefore with infection should he live”

    Ah! wherefore with infection should he live
    And with his presence grace impiety,
    That sin by him advantage should achieve,
    And lace itself with his society?  
    Why should false painting imitate his cheek,
    And steel dead seeming of his living hue?  
    Why should poor beauty indirectly seek
    Roses of shadow, since his rose is true?
    Why should he live, now Nature bankrupt is,
    Beggar’d of blood to blush through lively veins?
    For she hath no exchequer now but his,
    And, proud of many, lives upon his gains.  
      O! him she stores, to show what wealth she had
      In days long since, before these last so bad.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 67 “Ah! wherefore with infection should he live”

    The speaker in sonnet 67 “Ah! wherefore with infection should he live” bases his little drama on four rhetorical questions, as he explores the curiosity of the inferior, the phony, and the merely mediocre.

    First Quatrain:   Why Are Poetasters Permitted a Voice?

    Ah! wherefore with infection should he live
    And with his presence grace impiety,
    That sin by him advantage should achieve,
    And lace itself with his society?  

    The speaker poses his initial question:  why should it be that this perfect being exist in a flawed, degenerate world?  The presence of this talent “grace[s] impiety,” and when “sin” associates itself with that talent, it gains “advantage.”  The speaker likely feels that such co-existence causes imbalance and disharmony in a world of material depravity backed by spiritual strivings.

    Within this question, the reader can infer a range of possible reasons that poetasters are permitted by the Vast Cosmic Artist.  Without the contrast of skillful vs clumsy, good art would not be visible or appreciated.  Also, the competitive spirit winnows out the wheat from the shaft.  Still, the question remains until gloriously fulfilled by the Creator Himself.  

    Second Quatrain:  Reckoning with the Dualities

    Why should false painting imitate his cheek,
    And steel dead seeming of his living hue?  
    Why should poor beauty indirectly seek
    Roses of shadow, since his rose is true?

    The speaker then asks, why are those with less talent able to copy from him?  Why should lesser poets be able to emulate his style, when he alone has the authentic style?  Although the speaker is annoyed that lesser lights are able to spark a flicker because of him, his question still reveals the drama that ensues from the dualities.  

    On the earth plane of existence, the dualities are always a fact to be reckoned with.  Despite knowing intuitively the answers to his questions, the speaker asserts the human inclination and desire to know and understand completely all that the human heart and mind encounters on its earthly journey.

    Third Quatrain:  The Result of Dead Parroting

    Why should he live, now Nature bankrupt is,
    Beggar’d of blood to blush through lively veins?
    For she hath no exchequer now but his,
    And, proud of many, lives upon his gains.  

    The speaker then asks the question, why should this speaker even bother to care that others cause cataclysm with their dead parroting?   The speaker understands well that the poetasters and fakers will ever remain with us, spewing out their doggerel and dreck.  

    But the irksomeness of their plodding continues to annoy, distract, and even belittle at times. And even as this talented speaker remains justifiably pleased and proud of his own creations and the talent that has helped him create them, he sculpts his criticism with an eye on the fact that he is actually injured by these charlatans and poetasters.

    The Couplet:  True Art Will Always Conquer Bad Art

     O! him she stores, to show what wealth she had
      In days long since, before these last so bad.

    In the couplet, the speaker offers his answer:  Nature depends on the true poet, the one of talent, and as long as the genuinely talented offer an abundance of their creations, nature can encompass the non-talented as well.   

    Nature will always be able to point to the true poet to “show what wealth she had.”   Even though art may degenerate through the activity of poetasters, true art will always be available as long as the true poet creates.  

    While the speaker undoubtedly believes he understands the necessity for both good and bad poets, he wants to make it abundantly clear that those of lesser talent who usually tend to be those of arrogant, loud, haughty demeanor, will always remain an annoyance as well as a point of contrast to the genuine, truth-filled poet.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 68 “Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn”

    Sonnet 68 “Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn” is a companion piece to sonnet 67 “Ah! wherefore with infection should he live,” continuing the theme of authentic art vs. the artificial.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 68 “Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn”

    In sonnet 68 “Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker is once again chastising those poetasters who merely imitate older established artists.  The imitations lack the honesty and genuine search for truth and beauty that the originals possessed.

    In the preceding sonnet 67 “Ah! wherefore with infection should he live,” the speaker had also broached the subject of good art vs bad, but he concluded that nature can possess both, and the good and true will outshine and outlive the mediocre.  

    Because this speaker knows himself to be a genuine talent, he is capable of offering criticism of the works of others.  And he is not shy in letting his listeners and readers know what he deems legitimate and what he deems unworthy of honor and praise.

    Sonnet 68 “Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn”

    Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn
    When beauty liv’d and died as flowers do now,  
    Before these bastard signs of fair were born,
    Or durst inhabit on a living brow;
    Before the golden tresses of the dead,
    The right of sepulchres, were shorn away,  
    To live a second life on second head;  
    Ere beauty’s dead fleece made another gay:
    In him those holy antique hours are seen,  
    Without all ornament, itself and true,
    Making no summer of another’s green,
    Robbing no old to dress his beauty new;
      And him as for a map doth Nature store,  
      To show false Art what beauty was of yore.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 68 “Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn”

    Sonnet 68 “Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn” is a companion piece to sonnet 67, continuing the theme of authentic art vs the artificial.

    First Quatrain:  Nature Proffering True Art

    Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn
    When beauty liv’d and died as flowers do now,  
    Before these bastard signs of fair were born,
    Or durst inhabit on a living brow;

    The speaker begins sonnet 68, linking it to sonnet 67 “Ah! wherefore with infection should he live,” with the conjunctive adverb “thus.”  Because Nature will always be able to proffer true art through true artists, therefore “is his cheek the map of days outworn.”   On the aging face of the true artist will “beauty” live and die, despite the phony upstarts who merely copycat and therefore denigrate art with their pettiness and shallowness.

    The speaker is metaphorically using face to mean the face of art, not the face of the human artist.  He is not concerned with human appearance here as he was in the “marriage sonnets.”   

    The speaker, instead, is concerned only with the genuine art of bona fide artists.  Earlier art provided a “beauty” that “liv’d and died as flowers do now.”    That was before “these bastard signs of fair were born” who now dare to copy past masters yet remain poetasters.

    Second Quatrain:  The Abomination of Poetasters

    Before the golden tresses of the dead,
    The right of sepulchres, were shorn away,  
    To live a second life on second head;  
    Ere beauty’s dead fleece made another gay:

    The shallowness of copycat poetasters is an abomination just as are grave robbers who steal hair from the dead to fashion into wigs.  The “second life” of that hair that well suited its original owner becomes an unnatural prop, not an outgrowth of beauty. 

    The speaker implies that such art is unnatural, unoriginal and therefore lacks the attributes of natural beauty and truth, which he much disdains as counterfeit.    By comparing metaphorically such artists to grave robbers, the speaker makes it known that he values the older works that have stood the test of time.  Better such art remain sepulchered than brought out by shining hucksters whose bogusness denigrates the art.

    Third Quatrain:  Valid Artists

    In him those holy antique hours are seen,  
    Without all ornament, itself and true,
    Making no summer of another’s green,
    Robbing no old to dress his beauty new;

    The speaker then turns to the valid artist whose “holy antique hours are seen.”  That artist’s creations are genuine, without employing ornamental, meaningless devices.  Such genuine creators do not steal the “green” from another artist’s “summer”; instead they provide their own color.  They have no need to purloin the clothing from the old in an attempt to refashion a new “beauty.”

    The legitimate artist does not rely on decorations; his metaphors and images are “true.”  He does not reply on the work of others.    The genuine artist has no need to “rob” or copy from older artists to enhance his own work.

    The Couplet:  The Stockpiles of Nature

      And him as for a map doth Nature store,  
      To show false Art what beauty was of yore.

    It is the work of that indisputable artist that Nature stockpiles using his true creations as a “map” “[t]o show false Art what beauty was of yore.”    No matter how much the contemporary poetasters “rob” from the artists of yesteryear, only Nature will recognize the authentic, genuine, heart-felt works of the morally and spiritually inspired artist.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 69 “Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view”

    In Shakespeare sonnet 69 “Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view,” the speaker is elucidating and dramatizing the difference between the inner and outer qualities that constitute the human personality, with implications for the healing nature of art.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 69 “Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view”

    The speaker in Sonnet 69 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence is expressing his interest in the differences between the mind’s ability to distinguish truth on the physical and spiritual levels. 

    While the physical level may show outward beauty that the mind may perceive, the spiritual level possesses the true eternal nature of beauty, which, according to sages, avatars, and other spiritual adepts, only the soul understands.

    This deep-thinking speaker suggests that while each human being possesses an outer and inner level of being, those who aspire to access the inner qualities of the heart and mind live and think profoundly and thus acquire the ability to create true art.  This indefatigable speaker is ever focused on creating art, and thus he continues to explore and elucidate all aspects of art from creation to criticism.

    Sonnet 69 “Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view”

    Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view
    Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend;
    All tongues—the voice of souls—give thee that due,  
    Uttering bare truth, even so as foes commend.
    Thy outward thus with outward praise is crown’d;
    But those same tongues, that give thee so thine own,
    In other accents do this praise confound  
    By seeing farther than the eye hath shown.
    They look into the beauty of thy mind,
    And that, in guess, they measure by thy deeds;
    Then,—churls,—their thoughts, although their eyes were kind,
    To thy fair flower add the rank smell of weeds:  
      But why thy odour matcheth not thy show,
      The soil is this, that thou dost common grow.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 69 “Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view”

    The speaker is focusing on and dramatizing the difference between inner and outer qualities of the human personality.  As always, he is elucidating these qualities with implications for the healing nature of art and for his own ability to create.

    First Quatrain:  Inner vs Outer Personality

    Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view
    Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend;
    All tongues—the voice of souls—give thee that due,  
    Uttering bare truth, even so as foes commend.

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 69 “Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view,” the speaker determines that the inner person may not be the same as the outer physical appearance.  The “heart” can “mend” any deficiency that exists in the beauty and grace of the physical body.  The “voice of souls” uplifts the person who might be rebuked by “foes.” 

    Critics who may be “[u]ttering bare truth” are more important than those who seek to mollify it.   The heart represents love, while the “voice of souls” represents wisdom. Although neither is detectible by outward senses, both do contend and accomplish without fanfare.

    The speaker is confronting issues that remain part of his wheelhouse for the generation of themes and subjects on which he will continue to focus.  He is thus encouraging his creative process to remain steadily aware of the nature of healing that comes from within the artist’s own heart and soul.  

    The physical makeup of a sonnet may be personified and thus reflect a similar growth pattern that an individual human being might possess.   This talented speaker is capable of intuiting the inner dwelling of power that resides in the heart and soul; therefore, he is able to create his dramas featuring the profound knowledge about which he is cognizant.

    Second Quatrain:  Outward Praise Nothing Special

    Thy outward thus with outward praise is crown’d;
    But those same tongues, that give thee so thine own,
    In other accents do this praise confound  
    By seeing farther than the eye hath shown.

    After the outward façade of any piece of art is awarded undeserved accolades, nothing of substance is gained by either the artist or the audience.  Outward beauty degenerates with time, but inner beauty can grow and become even more beautiful over time. 

    All the wagging “tongues” cannot add or detract from inner soul beauty.  This speaker has always been more interested and intrigued by the spiritual (inner) level of being.  He is appalled at the degeneration of the physical level. 

    The physical eye is capable of detecting only the outward, mutable appearance, but the heart and soul are more significant than the physical eye because they are capable of “seeing farther than the eye.”  This speaker believes that the human personality blossoms through creativity.  

    The nature of the blossoming of the human personality depends upon individual levels of awareness.  For example, a child will be only minimally cognizant of his potential for growth and change. An adult, however, will have gone through various stages of growth and change.

    The adult then will have become aware that there is more to each individual’s maturing nature than at first may be observed with the physical eye. This speaker always remains more interested in the unseen than the seen, for he knows that scientifically the permanent is spiritual energy rather than visible matter.

    Third Quatrain:  Unworthy Praise

    They look into the beauty of thy mind,
    And that, in guess, they measure by thy deeds;
    Then,—churls,—their thoughts, although their eyes were kind,
    To thy fair flower add the rank smell of weeds:  

    The heart and soul are capable of observing and concentrating on inner, mental loveliness, and thus capable of estimating the value of actions. The unreliable adulation of popular criticism based on outward appearance is unworthy and offers no truth.   And churlish critics can even distort what they see outwardly and “[t]o [a] fair flower add the rank smell of weeds.”

    This speaker realizes that mere opinion, even while sounding reasonable, and logic can be dead wrong; thus, opinion based on the outward garb of art may focus on elements that add nothing substantial to the success of the art. Superficial critics may turn a lovely flower into a stinking weed with their false notions.  

    Lacking the ability to see into the heart and soul of a poem or any piece of art, the surface-searching critic remains hide-bound and mentally ossified by the outward, the façade, and the decoration instead of the inner qualities that render art meaningful and profound.

    The Couplet:  Comprehending Truth

    But why thy odour matcheth not thy show,
      The soil is this, that thou dost common grow.

    Those who fail to grasp the spiritual level of the human personality, especially in the artist, do not “matcheth” or understand the level of truth revealed in the creative works of spiritual artists.  Instead of offering true growth, the superficial viewers negate all art to dirt.

    Those surface thinking charlatans engage in a level of blather (See “Robert Bly’s ‘The Cat in the Kitchen’ and ‘Driving to Town Late to Mail a Letter’”) from which an erroneous common denominator blights the understanding of human personality.  That misconception arising from that blighted thinking keeps the mind bound to the physical level filled with the pain and limitation of the temporary. 

    According to the saints and sages of all philosophical traditions, only at the soul level can consciousness reach infinity.  The human personality is capable of reaching that level but remains rigid and intolerant as it continues to engage in virtually exclusive reliance on the physical senses. 

    This speaker has engaged his high level thinking power and is able to intuit that his spiritual energy far outpaces his physical power; thus, he can write and describe the landscape from the metaphorical mountaintop instead of inside the figurative cave.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 70 “That thou art blam’d shall not be thy defect”

    In sonnet 70 “That thou art blam’d shall not be thy defect,” the speaker is addressing his own persona, that is, his artist soul, lightening his heart by assuaging the pangs it might be feeling from unfair criticism.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 70 “That thou art blam’d shall not be thy defect”

    Every artist or poet must face criticism, and because criticism consists basically of the opinion of the critic, it is always likely that some critic will give a negative review of the piece of art.  Unfair critics will always be with us, just as charlatans and poetasters will be.  

    In sonnet 70 “That thou art blam’d shall not be thy defect” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, this speaker is admonishing his own creative self that it is the best work that is most likely to receive the harshest criticism.

    While such a notion might seem to be mere rationalization because poor work can also be harshly criticized, this speaker has proven repeatedly that he is a genuine artist and that he creates only the “sweetest” works possible.  Thus, readers and listeners of this speaker are more likely to remain open to his opinions and will be able to grasp his take on every eventuality with an open mind.

    Sonnet 70 “That thou art blam’d shall not be thy defect”

    That thou art blam’d shall not be thy defect
    For slander’s mark was ever yet the fair;
    The ornament of beauty is suspect,
    A crow that flies in heaven’s sweetest air.  
    So thou be good, slander doth but approve
    Thy worth the greater, being woo’d of time;
    For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love,
    And thou present’st a pure unstained prime.
    Thou hast pass’d by the ambush of young days,  
    Either not assail’d, or victor being charg’d;
    Yet this thy praise cannot be so thy praise,  
    To tie up envy evermore enlarg’d:
      If some suspect of ill mask’d not thy show,
      Then thou alone kingdoms of hearts shouldst owe.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 70 “That thou art blam’d shall not be thy defect”

    In order to mitigate the pangs felt from unfair criticism, the speaker is addressing his artist soul, formulating and offering sage advice.

    First Quatrain:  Addressing the Artist Inside

    That thou art blam’d shall not be thy defect
    For slander’s mark was ever yet the fair;
    The ornament of beauty is suspect,
    A crow that flies in heaven’s sweetest air.

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 70 “That thou art blam’d shall not be thy defect,” the speaker addresses his own artist self, assuring himself that the blame he may incur does not indicate that he, or is work, is therefore defective.    Those who slander always choose what is best because there is no point in running down what is already unworthy of praise.  

    Such an attitude may be considered a rationalization, but this speaker, as his followers have discovered, is secure in his own self-awareness regarding his art.    This speaker knows genuine criticism from mere slander.  Whenever a beautiful object appears in nature, its opposite appears to tarnish it.  Such is the nature of duality on the earth plane of existence.

    Second Quatrain:   Vowing to Continue Good Work

    So thou be good, slander doth but approve
    Thy worth the greater, being woo’d of time;
    For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love,
    And thou present’st a pure unstained prime.

    The speaker then advises his soul persona to “be good,” or to continue producing good works and worthy art because negative criticism is simply a sign that his art is genuine, certainly more worthy than the negative critique   The speaker is again implying that scandalous criticism by comparison will only showcase the genuineness of the true artist’s creations.  

    The worm that seeks out “buds” to suckle seeks “the sweetest,” and the speaker’s art is “pure unstained prime.”    It is then a simple matter of logic that such a rare purified art should become a target of unscrupulous critics who endeavor to disparage genuine art.  Those same bilge spouting blatherers will then find favor in works of a definite inferior quality.

    Third Quatrain:  No Longer a Beginner

    Thou hast pass’d by the ambush of young days,  
    Either not assail’d, or victor being charg’d;
    Yet this thy praise cannot be so thy praise,  
    To tie up envy evermore enlarg’d:

    The speaker then reminds his artist soul that he is no longer a youth starting out in his chosen art field.  This speaker is a mature artist, not an adolescent who can be jerked around by fits and starts of high-flown poetic nonsense.  

    The praise this speaker/poet receives is for the skill that he possesses; he crafts his sonnets using his best materials and techniques.    This speaker does not engage in his art “[t]o tie up envy” but to produce the best that can be spoken about the spiritual realm of being as it pertains to the material.

    The skill that this artist possesses has come to him through his maturity, and he remains cognizant that the achievement of age is to be praised even if that praise will likely never be heaped upon art that transcends common mores and low levels of understanding.  This speaker’s devotion to the genuine over the fake remains intact despite the cold, hard stares of doubting critics.

    The Couplet:  Recognizing True Worth

     If some suspect of ill mask’d not thy show,
      Then thou alone kingdoms of hearts shouldst owe.

    If unscrupulous shysters did not try to disparage this artist’s creations, he would have to take on the total responsibility of spreading his creations to all those who will, indeed, love his works.  While positive criticism works to publicize even the most egregious art, negative or scandalous false criticism can also help publicize even the best art. 

    This talented, deep-thinking speaker retains his confidence that his art is genuine and that true art lovers will be able to recognize its worth. Thus as the naysayers ply their trade, he can remain confident that they are only helping to spread his vision, despite their obvious destructive intensions.  He knows that ultimately he must leave his reputation and all that attends it to the functioning of karma.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 71 “No longer mourn for me when I am dead”

    The speaker in sonnet 71 “No longer mourn for me when I am dead” muses on the permanence of his works to which he remains wholeheartedly dedicated.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 71 “No longer mourn for me when I am dead”

    At first reading, “Muse Sonnet” 71 “No longer mourn for me when I am dead” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence may seem to be a departure from the theme of writing and the muse.   However, it becomes clear that the request for readers and listeners not to sorrow over the death of the writer is made simply to allow that audience to concentrate on the art, not the artist.

    This speaker does not want his life to be scrutinized nor his death deeply mourned because such scrutiny and mourning would detract from focusing clearly and intently on the sonnets.   This speaker repeatedly demonstrates that his love for creating his art remains bolstered by his strong talent.  His pleasure and pride in his work constitute the main focus of his life.  He knows his strength, and he plays to it wholeheartedly.

    Sonnet 71 “No longer mourn for me when I am dead”

    No longer mourn for me when I am dead  
    Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell
    Give warning to the world that I am fled
    From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell:
    Nay, if you read this line, remember not
    The hand that writ it; for I love you so,
    That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,  
    If thinking on me then should make you woe.
    O! if,—I say, you look upon this verse,
    When I perhaps compounded am with clay,
    Do not so much as my poor name rehearse,
    But let your love even with my life decay;  
      Lest the wise world should look into your moan,
      And mock you with me after I am gone.

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    Commentary on Sonnet 71 “No longer mourn for me when I am dead”

    In this sonnet from the thematic group “The Muse Sonnets,” the speaker is admonishing his readers and listeners to keep their period of mourning short after he has died.  He wants his little dramatic creations to take center stage and not be upstaged by his biography or personality.

    First Quatrain:   Addressing Future Readers

    No longer mourn for me when I am dead  
    Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell
    Give warning to the world that I am fled
    From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell:

    The first quatrain of sonnet 71 finds the speaker addressing his future readers and listeners.  He then requests a favor from those individuals, asking them to shorten all periods of mourning for him after he has left this life.   Their mourning period should endure only as long as is required a “surly sullen bell” to cease its ringing.  That “warning” bell at some unknown point in the future will report the speaker’s death to the world.

    That death ring will announce to the village that the speaker has left his body, and that body will now go “with vilest worms to dwell.”  The speaker releases his contempt for the world in this sonnet by calling it, “this vile world.”   

    That “world” includes all the nasty critics, creepy poetasters, and despicable charlatans whom the speaker has chastised abundantly in his earlier sonnets.   But even as the world is filled with villainous people, the speaker’s physical encasement will be submitted to an even worse fate as it enters the domain of the “vilest worms.”

    Oddly, however, the speaker then states that his body will be living among the worms, as he says, “with vilest worms to dwell”; this state of events remains in contrast to the usual notion of a body being eaten up by the worms.

    Second Quatrain:    Asking a Favor

    Nay, if you read this line, remember not
    The hand that writ it; for I love you so,
    That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,  
    If thinking on me then should make you woe.

    In the second quatrain, the speaker continues to ask his future readers and listeners for a favor.  He strangely requests his audience not even “remember” the speaker/writer who wrote those lines. 

    The speaker states that he loves his future readers/listeners so much that he would never want to cause them pain.  Such pain seems to be pressing the speaker even as he writes.  Just the thought of causing others such sorrow shakes his equanimity.

    Assuaging any future grief and sorrow of loved ones becomes the speaker’s goal.  He always strives to reduce sadness, melancholy, and sorrow from his life.  He has taken as his goal to create art that is filled with love. 

    This speaker has shown repeatedly that he knows he is blessed with a unique talent.  He wants that talent put to use only for positive purposes, such as sharing beauty, love, and truth.

    Third Quatrain:   Dramatizing a Request

    O! if,—I say, you look upon this verse,
    When I perhaps compounded am with clay,
    Do not so much as my poor name rehearse,
    But let your love even with my life decay;  

    The speaker now is dramatizing an additional request of his future readers and listeners. As readers experience the speaker’s sonnet, the speaker commands them not to utter the speaker’s name, but “let your love even with my life decay.”   The speaker desires that his readers, listeners, fans concentrate only on his polished sonnets and not grieve over the speaker’s death.

    This speaker’s notion of not using the name of the poet likely accounts for the poet’s use of a nom de plume.  By using the poet’s pen name, the reader will not be engaging the writer’s true identity.  If the reader were to pronounce the real name of the writer, it would then become more difficult for that reader to forget who wrote the piece.  

    The speaker is attempting to instruct the reader/listener to eliminate all emotion and thought of the speaker that would unnecessarily burden the reader.  The speaker wants all the readers’ attention placed on his verse not his personality.

    The Couplet:  Odd Requests

     Lest the wise world should look into your moan,
      And mock you with me after I am gone.

    In the couplet, the speaker manages to insert a further reason for his odd requests.  Openly mourning the speaker might bring mockery on his readers, he fears.  Again, the speaker shows compassion for his readers.  But ultimately, his goal is to focus on his creations.  He wants nothing to blur the vision of those who would concentrate upon his art.

    This speaker has shown repeatedly how important his talent for writing is to him and how very urgently he wants his beautiful creations to shine before the world’s eye.   By insisting that the readers and listeners in his audience remain steadfastly concentrated on the works and not on their composer, the speaker again emphasizes that he deems his creations more important than their creator.

    Irony of Situation

    The irony that has developed from the subject of sonnet 71 “No longer mourn for me when I am dead” is strong.  Although the speaker is asking that his biography remain of minimal interest, the opposite has occurred.  The biography of the “Shakespeare” writer has taken center stage, as barrels of ink have been spilled addressing the issue of the “real” writer of the Shakespeare works.

    The mere fact the sonneteer employed a nom de plume has made it impossible that his future audience would simply focus on his works and not on his life.  It is likely that as much text has been researched and written about the Shakespeare writer’s true identity as has been done about his works.

    It is also quite likely that Edward de Vere, the 17th Earl of Oxford had an inkling of that controversy he was creating as he was composing the “Shakespeare” sonnets, and it likely added to the mystic that he surely suspected would surround his dramatic creations.  He must have entertained such a thought with a knowing smile.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 72 “O! lest the world should task you to recite”

    In sonnet 72 “O! lest the world should task you to recite,” the speaker addresses his poem again, creating a drama about his death and advising the poem not to advertise the speaker’s merit after he has departed, because he wants the emphasis to remain upon his works not his biography.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 72 “O! lest the world should task you to recite”

    There exists growing awareness of the controversy regarding the real writer of the Shakespearean works, both plays and sonnets.  This controversy exists primarily in the world of literature, but thinkers in other fields of endeavor are also becoming aware of its nature and impact.  

    Many scholars and critics are convinced that Edward de Vere is the writer who actually composed the works attributed to “William Shakespeare.”  Thus the name “William Shakespeare” is, in fact, merely the pen name of the 17th Earl of Oxford.

    This sonnet 72 offers further support for the assertion that de Vere was using the nom de plume, “William Shakespeare.”  Its theme demonstrates the desire of the sonnet’s speaker to have his works speak for themselves and not be influenced by the poet’s name.

    Sonnet 72 “O! lest the world should task you to recite”

    O! lest the world should task you to recite
    What merit lived in me, that you should love
    After my death,—dear love, forget me quite,
    For you in me can nothing worthy prove;
    Unless you would devise some virtuous lie,
    To do more for me than mine own desert,
    And hang more praise upon deceased I
    Than niggard truth would willingly impart:
    O! lest your true love may seem false in this,
    That you for love speak well of me untrue,
    My name be buried where my body is,
    And live no more to shame nor me nor you.
    For I am sham’d by that which I bring forth,
    And so should you, to love things nothing worth.

    Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 72 “O! lest the world should task you to recite”

    The speaker is once again addressing his poem, creating a drama about his death and advising the poem not to advertise the speaker’s merit after he has departed from earthly life.

    First Quatrain:  Distinguishing Self from Poem

    O! Lest the world should task you to recite
    What merit lived in me, that you should love
    After my death,—dear love, forget me quite,
    For you in me can nothing worthy prove;

    In Shakespeare sonnet 72 “O! lest the world should task you to recite,” the speaker establishes a distinction between himself and his poems.  He does not sanction the notion that his poetry will be a reflection of his own personal merit.  He understands that as a flawed human being the art that results from his talent is greater than his idiosyncrasies.  

    The speaker realizes that after the death of an artist, that artist’s stock often rises considerably, and he does not want that to happen to him.  He wants his art to shine for itself, not because of some imagined superior state of the poet.

    This particular desire expressed by this speaker reveals his dedication to his art and not to his own reputation.  He continues to create his little dramas for the sake of the art itself and for edification of those who can appreciate it.  

    He knows that those looking merely for biographical information about him, as a celebrated name, would miss the significance of his art.  His plea in this sonnet thus becomes a kind of prayer from deliverance from that state of events.

    Second Quatrain:  No Fawning over Personality

    Unless you would devise some virtuous lie,
    To do more for me than mine own desert,
    And hang more praise upon deceased I
    Than niggard truth would willingly impart:

    The concocting of “some virtuous lie” would serve only to elevate the poet above his poetic productions.  He knows that his poems deserve great adulation for they reflect “[his] own desert.”  

    But to fawn over his personality and lavish “more praise” upon him after his death denigrates the truth that he has always aspired to dramatize and promote.

    The speaker is forming his request to essentially command, “don’t fawn over me when I’m dead, unless you want to diminish my poetry.”  As his readers have repeatedly experienced, this speaker is playing with language structure to produce original discourses.   

    This speaker is, therefore, loath to have his creations upstaged by an emphasis on his personal life or personality.  Such a desire remains a motivation for writers to engage noms de plume, stage names, or pen names.

    Third Quatrain:  Emphasis on Works not Poet

    O! lest your true love may seem false in this,
    That you for love speak well of me untrue,
    My name be buried where my body is,
    And live no more to shame nor me nor you.

    The speaker then provides further reasoning for keeping the emphasis on his works and not himself.  The “true love” that he has consistently dramatized in his poem would appear “false in this.” 

    This speaker feels that his life remains quite humble and unassuming, and in order to elevate his virtue, lies, or at best exaggerations, would have to be slipped into his eulogy. 

    This talented speaker, therefore, requests that “[his] name be buried with [his body].”   His flawed human personality will, after his death and burial, no longer be present to “shame” his muse, his talent, or even other people.   

    This insightful speaker insists that only his poetry be allowed to shine, without his flawed biography to co-opt it.

    The Couplet:  His Shames Do Not Write His Verse

    For I am sham’d by that which I bring forth,
    And so should you, to love things nothing worth.

    The speaker admits that he has committed shames in his life, and if much is made of him after his death, his poetry will suffer in value. This speaker wishes to bury his personality so that his works can speak for themselves without critics and scholars attempting to account for the events with biography.   In the early 20th century, a school of critical thought called the New Criticism took this very tactic as its foundation.

    New critics such as Allan Tate, Robert Penn Warren, John Crowe Ransom, and Cleanth Brooks believed that, “The reader does not need outside sources, such as the author’s biography, to fully understand a text.”   Edward de Vere would have agreed because as an aristocrat he would not have benefited by being linked to the lowly craft of writing sonnets and stage plays.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 73 “That time of year thou mayst in me behold”

    The speaker in sonnet 73 “That time of year thou mayst in me behold” is employing three different metaphors—a tree, a day, and a fire—to describe the effect that a temporary lack of inspiration exerts on the speaker’s ability to create his little dramas.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 73 “That time of year thou mayst in me behold”

    This much anthologized sonnet 73 “That time of year thou mayst in me behold” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence is often interpreted only as a speaker describing the aging process of his body.  

    But this complex sonnet actually works on two levels:  one describes the body’s aging while the other once again bemoans that low period of a writer’s dilemma when inspiration may be running thin.

    This sonnet does, in fact, appear in the series of sonnets dedicated to the speaker’s muse, his talent, his poems.  It is not likely that he would simply abandon that theme to focus solely on the mundane subject of an aging physical body.  

    This speaker is far too clever and too strongly dedicated to writing unique poems to fall so low as to create a drama simply about a physical function. Thus, the speaker once again creates a unique view of how it feels to experience the worse curse of any writer—lack of inspiring motivation to create.

    Sonnet 73 “That time of year thou mayst in me behold”

    That time of year thou mayst in me behold
    When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
    Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
    Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
    In me thou see’st the twilight of such day
    As after sunset fadeth in the west;
    Which by and by black night doth take away,
    Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.
    In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire,
    That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
    As the deathbed whereon it must expire,
    Consumed with that which it was nourished by.
       This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,
       To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

     Original Text

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 73 “That time of year thou mayst in me behold”

    As a dreaded waning of inspirational motivation overtakes the speaker’s ability to create his little dramas, he must use all of his resources to stave off that invader which makes him perceive himself and his creations as a tree moving into autumn—its best, productive days in the past spring and summer seasons.

    First Quatrain:  Addressing the Sonnet

    That time of year thou mayst in me behold
    When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
    Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
    Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

    In the first quatrain of Shakespeare sonnet 73 “That time of year thou mayst in me behold,” the speaker is addressing his belovèd sonnet, remarking that it may see that the strength of his talent is shaking again through another period of low inspirational motivation. 

    The speaker compares his stagnated talent to a tree in autumn losing its leaves: “yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang.”  The tree in summer stood tall as its leaves began to unfurl and deepen into summer leaves of sturdy green.  

    Now as a dull lethargy falls onto the poet’s shoulders, his pages (“leaves”) have turned yellow with lack of ink.  Personifying his compositions, the speaker’s poems’ literary hair has thinned against the on-set of that dreaded curse for writers, and the few strands they still possess  are turning gray through disuse.   The gray hair that once was brown/black is likened to yellow leaves that once were green.   

    And like the tree’s branches trembling in the cold breezes of winter coming on, the speaker’s penchant for verse seems to shiver in the cold weather brought on by his lack of poetic inspiration.   The speaker’s poetry is becoming “[b]are ruin’d choirs,” though it used to be filled with beautiful expression akin to the songs of “sweet birds.” 

    Second Quatrain:  Loss of Inspiration—Like a Tree and a Day

    In me thou see’st the twilight of such day
    As after sunset fadeth in the west;
    Which by and by black night doth take away,
    Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.

    After comparing this recent onset of writer’s low energy to a tree in late autumn, the speaker then compares it to a day.  His ebbing inspiration has caused him to feel that he is in the “twilight of [that] day,” the time when the sun “fadeth in the west.”  

    When the speaker’s full inspiration and full flowing creativity is in progress, he feels that the time of day is noon, when the sun is highest and the ability to see is keenest. The low-energy ability to continue his creations causes him to feel that he is experiencing that part of the day that is becoming dark.

    The speaker expresses metaphorically the approaching of night time for the day as the time when soon everything sleeps.  The day gives way to “black night.”  And black night brings on “Death’s second self,” or sleep.   

    While the speaker does not wish to sleep, because he wishes to be able to write his poems, he knows that it is likely that he will have to sleep in order to gain some strength to fight the lack of inspiration that is occurring.

    Third Quatrain:  Low-Burning Energy—Like a Fire

    In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire,
    That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
    As the deathbed whereon it must expire,
    Consumed with that which it was nourished by. 

    In the third quatrain, the speaker again introduces a new metaphor:  this time he compares his ebbing motivation to compose to a fire that “on the ashes of his youth doth lie.”   The times when he was freely and productively composing represents youth that once burned brightly.

    However, during these times of low-burning energy, it seems that his flame may be dwindling, and that the very things that fed his youthful, vibrant flame are being consumed by the low-burning fire of inspirational insufficiency.

    The Couplet:  Faith in the Muse

    This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,
       To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

    Nevertheless, the speaker knows that his belovèd muse that accompanies his talent is still affording him love and that love is becoming even stronger as he continues to battle the fatigue brought on by this dreaded curse of writers.  

    The speaker credits his fine talent, his inspiring muse, and his strong ability to compose with the capability of continuing.  By personifying those creative entities, the speaker can thus perceive that his love is well protected and growing even stronger—despite the fact that it may in future seem to burn low again.

  • The Marriage Sonnets 1—17

    Image:  Shake-speares Sonnets   Hank Whittemore’s Shakespeare Blog

    The Marriage Sonnets

    From the classic 154 Shakespeare sonnet sequence, the  “Marriage Sonnets” 1—17 features a speaker, attempting to persuade a young man to marry and produces beautiful children.  Oxfordians, who hold that the actual Shakespeare writer was Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford, suggest that the young man is probably Henry Wriothesley, the third Earl of Southhampton and that the speaker of sonnets 1–17 is striving to convince the young earl to marry Elizabeth de Vere, the eldest daughter of Edward de Vere.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 1 “From fairest creatures we desire increase”

    The first sonnet “From fairest creatures we desire increase” focuses on persuading a young man to marry and procreate beautiful offspring; the speaker continues that engagement in sonnets 1–17.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 1 “From fairest creatures we desire increase”

    While the Shakespeare canon is most noted for its plays, including Hamlet, Macbeth, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, The Taming of the Shew, Romeo and Juliet, and many others, the Shakespeare writer’s literary masterpieces also feature a sequence of 154 masterfully crafted sonnets.  

    Despite the wide-spread tendency to categorize the sonnets thematically into two groups, the first 126 focusing on a young man and the remainder focusing on an illicit affair with “dark lady,” the actual thematic structure supports three distinct groups:  

    1. The Marriage Sonnets (often miscategorized in “Fair Youth”): 1–17
    2. The Muse Sonnets (often mistaken as “Fair Youth Sonnets”): 18–126
    3. The Dark Lady Sonnets: 127–154

    The first group—The Marriage Sonnets 1–17—clearly addresses a young man, as the speaker pleads with him to marry and produce beautiful children, who will look like the young man and continue his legacy of well-pleasing features.  This group is often merged with the second and labeled “The Fair Youth Sonnets.”

    The second group—The Muse Sonnets—mistakenly thought to be addressing the same young man but for a different purpose focuses on the theme of creativity and the place of the muse in the creative process.  Because no “fair youth” or any other person appears in the bulk of that thematic group, 18–126, I have relabeled that group to more accurately reflect its theme.

    Instead of addressing a young man or any other person, the speaker in “The Muse Sonnets” is speaking variously to his muse, to his talent, to his soul, and even at times to the sonnets themselves.

    Sonnet 1 “From fairest creatures we desire increase” resides within the thematic category known as “The Marriage Sonnets,” containing sonnets 1–17.  The speaker in “The Marriage Sonnets” is pursuing his purpose with dramatic flair and creativity.  He is striving to convince a young man that the latter should marry and produce lovely offspring.  

    The speaker engages many different strategies in his attempt to persuade the young man to marry, appealing sometimes to his vanity and sometimes to his sense of duty.  The creativity of the speaker secures each sonnet’s drama as the sequence offers entertainment as well as enlightenment in poetry creation.

    Sonnet 1 “From fairest creatures we desire increase”

    From fairest creatures we desire increase
    That thereby beauty’s rose might never die,
    But as the riper should by time decease,
    His tender heir might bear his memory:
    But thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,
    Feed’st thy light’s flame with self-substantial fuel,
    Making a famine where abundance lies,
    Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
    Thou that art now the world’s fresh ornament
    And only herald to the gaudy spring,
    Within thine own bud buriest thy content,
    And, tender churl, mak’st waste in niggarding.
      Pity the world, or else this glutton be,
      To eat the world’s due, by the grave and thee.

    Original Text 

    Better Reading  

    Commentary on Sonnet 1 “From fairest creatures we desire increase”

    The speaker begins to ply his persuasive wiles on the young man to marry, conceive, and produce lovely offspring.   In this opening sonnet, the speaker is informing the young man that nature itself as well as humanity possess the innate wish to have beautiful people propagate their kind.

    First Quatrain:  The Desire for Continued Beauty

    From fairest creatures we desire increase
    That thereby beauty’s rose might never die,
    But as the riper should by time decease,
    His tender heir might bear his memory:

    The speaker makes the bold claim that nature plus humanity—an entity that the speaker conflates into “we”—possess hopes and wishes that beautiful people of pleasing demeanor fill the world with  pleasing specimens after their own kind. 

    The speaker, likening the young man’s loveliness to a “rose,” is opining that this young man, whom he is addressing, shines forth all those proper physical qualities that need to be replicated.

    The speaker thus is taking up a campaign to nudge this beautiful young specimen to marry and produce children that will be as beautiful as the young man is.   As the speaker compares the young man’s loveliness to a rose, he strives to persuade the young man that also just like the beauty of the rose, his beauty will wither and die.

    However, if the young man will simply accept and follow this more experienced, older man’s advice, he will allow his beauty to be passed on to a new generation, and in place of “by time decrease,” the young man will cause the beauty of the “fairest” kind to increase in the world.    If the young man will cause lovely children, who resemble him to be born and inhabit the planet, he will be giving nature and humanity what it most desires.

    Second Quatrain:  A Selfish Young Man

    But thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,
    Feed’st thy light’s flame with self-substantial fuel,
    Making a famine where abundance lies,
    Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.

    As the clever speaker continues his persuasion, he then chides the young man, accusing him of being selfish.  His stingy ways bespeak an ill-formed character, who wishes to bask in his own self adulation.   He berates the young man for desiring to look only at his own beautiful features, such as his “bright eyes.”  

    The speaker finds it inappropriate that the young man simply continues to delight in his own self-esteem, increasing his own beauty while he continues to remain stingy in passing it on to others.

    The speaker then engages in some exaggeration, implying that the young man’s conceited ways are starving the world.  They are bringing on “a famine” even in the midst of the youngster’s “abundance”—a plenteous supply that he should be willing to share.  

    If, instead of remaining selfish, the young man will marry, he can yield forth children, who will present that same loveliness to the world that he already has done.    The speaker tries to  convince the young man that he is in fact only impeding his own interests by his selfish desire to retain his beautiful qualities only for himself.   

    The speaker has affected a façade of sorrow to implore the young man to believe that he has become his own worst enemy; ultimately, according to the speaker, the young man is just being unkind to his own “sweet self.”    The speaker has no compunction about employing flattery and cunning to fulfill his ultimate purpose.

    Third Quatrain:   Appeal to Vanity

    Thou that art now the world’s fresh ornament
    And only herald to the gaudy spring,
    Within thine own bud buriest thy content,
    And, tender churl, mak’st waste in niggarding.

    The speaker seems convinced that accusations of selfishness may be a winning strategy in appealing to the young man’s sense of duty; thus he pulls at the strings of his leanings toward vanity.

    Because the young man is only one individual, he will remain only one—and then within himself “bur[y] his content”—if he remains unmarried and fails to spring off lovely, pleasing children.  The speaker addresses the young man as “tender churl.”  Now, he is nearly begging the young man to cease wasting his time and energy by focusing so selfishly only on himself. 

    Because the young man’s qualities are so valuable, worth so much more than simple temporary beauty, he must correct the possible loss of those qualities to the world by reproducing more like himself.   The young man’s following the older man’s advice would keep a rather bad situation from occurring.

    The Couplet:  Usurping a World Starving for Beauty

      Pity the world, or else this glutton be,
      To eat the world’s due, by the grave and thee.

    Finally, speaker concludes his entreaty, by summing up his complaint in a rather blunt manner.  Again, he wishes to make the young man believe that his failure to marry and reproduce makes him a usurper of the world’s resources.

    According to the speaker’s claims, possessing beauty, loveliness, charm, and all forms of pleasing qualities places on the possessor the duty to replenish the world with those same qualities.  The young man should marry and produce children, not only for his own sense of immortality but for sake of society—nature and humanity—that desires such increase.

    If, however, this young man continues to reject the counsel of the speaker, he will not only swindle the world, but he will also shortchange himself and discover himself alone facing nothing but “the grave.”

    Shakespeare Sonnet 2  “When forty winters shall besiege thy brow”

    Shakespeare sonnet 2 from the “Marriage Sonnets” finds the speaker again begging the young man to marry and spring off lovely children, before he becomes too old and decrepit to achieve that goal, one that the speaker insists is of utmost importance for the young man and society.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 2  “When forty winters shall besiege thy brow”

    In the second installment of the “Marriage Sonnets” from the Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker continues his attempt to convince the young man to take a wife and add to the next generation his own beautiful children.   The speaker admonishes the young man to act before he begins his descent into old age, wherein he will lose his youthful vitality and his physical beauty.

    This clever, creative speaker will continue to concoct many dramatic arguments as he strives to persuade this young man that his life will be much happier if he will only accept the older man’s counsel regarding marriage and family creation.  

    This speaker will often be appealing to the young man’s vanity as well as his sense of duty.  His choice of persuasive tactics offers a clue about the speaker’s own relationship with those qualities.

    Sonnet 2  “When forty winters shall besiege thy brow”

    When forty winters shall besiege thy brow
    And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field,
    Thy youth’s proud livery, so gaz’d on now,
    Will be a tatter’d weed, of small worth held:
    Then being ask’d, where all thy beauty lies,
    Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,
    To say, within thine own deep-sunken eyes,
    Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise.
    How much more praise deserv’d thy beauty’s use,  
    If thou couldst answer ‘This fair child of mine
    Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,’
    Proving his beauty by succession thine!
      This were to be new made when thou art old,
      And see thy blood warm when thou feel’st it cold.

    Original Text  

    Better Reading  

    Commentary Shakespeare Sonnet 2 “When forty winters shall besiege thy brow”

    The speaker in Shakespeare sonnet 2 continues to urge the young man to marry and procreate before he grows too old and decrepit.  The speaker is adamant that the young man pass on his pleasing qualities to a new generation.

    First Quatrain:  Old Age

    When forty winters shall besiege thy brow
    And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field,
    Thy youth’s proud livery, so gaz’d on now,
    Will be a tatter’d weed, of small worth held:

    A man’s life expectancy in Britain during the late 16th and early 17th centuries was about fifty-five years; thus, at the age of forty, an individual was considered old.   By employing a metaphor that turns the young man’s “brow” into a plowed cornfield, the speaker is offering a disturbing image of a wrinkled old face that resembles a plowed cornfield with “deep trenches.”

    The speaker hopes to use this unsightly spectacle to convince the young man that time is flying.  He is aware that the young man, as a target of his pleading, has shown considerable pride in his youthful, handsome appearance.  

    Thus in reminding the young man that one day in future his handsome, blemish-free,  unlined face will be relegated to a “tatter’d weed,” the speaker hopes to enhance the  points of his argument.  Such a weed face will be worthless in trying to attract a bride.

    The sly nature of this speaker continues to emerge as he attempts to engage the young man with his clever rhetorical flourishes.    The speaker is continuing to appeal to the young man, focusing on qualities that he feels are most vulnerable to the speaker’s argument and persuasion.  

    The speaker’s audience may likely be guessing just what the speaker wants to achieve for himself by having the young man give in to his persuasion.  At first glance, it seems that the speaker has nothing special to gain from having the young man follow his advice, except perhaps the pleasure of knowing he had the ability to persuade.

    Second Quatrain:  Treasures Stashed in a Withering Face

    Then being ask’d, where all thy beauty lies,
    Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,
    To say, within thine own deep-sunken eyes,
    Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise.

    The speaker now warns the young fellow that if he continues to remain without an heir to all of his admirable qualities, the young man will have to reap the displeasure of having his beautiful, natural treasures socked away in a withering, old, ugly face.  

    The young fellow’s reason for pride in his handsome countenance will stop dead in its tracks without an heir to keep on display that beautiful face.    The speaker simulates frustration that the young man remains so selfish as he steals from the world the benefits of the beauty that the young man has to offer.  

    Because he is refusing to pass on those favorable qualities for the benefit of society and even the culture, the insolent youth is portrayed as callous and self-absorbed—qualities that the speaker plans to establish in the mind of the young man as dreadfully despicable.  

    The speaker is demonstrating how deeply he pities the young man for allowing himself to experience a future possessing a deep-trenched face without an heir who could so easily replace his youthful beauty.

    Third Quatrain:  Continuing the Upbraiding

    How much more praise deserv’d thy beauty’s use,  
    If thou couldst answer ‘This fair child of mine
    Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,’
    Proving his beauty by succession thine!

    The speaker continues to chide the young man.  He dramatizes the contrast that exists between producing a child now to not producing one.  If the young man follows the speaker’s counsel and produces lovely children now in his youthful, vital time of life, the young man will be able to take comfort in the fact that he has bestowed on the world a gift that reflects well upon the father.

    By offering the world and society the marvelous qualities which will enhance the next generation, the young man is doing his sacred duty, as well as guaranteeing comfort in his golden years.  The young man’s beautiful heirs will remain a testament to the future that this father was a handsome, vital man.   

    If, however, the young fellow continues his obstinate ways of remaining single and childless, he will have to meet the future with a wrinkled old face that resembles a plowed cornfield, and he will possess nothing substantial as he descends into death.

    The Couplet:  Producing Offspring to Retain Youth

      This were to be new made when thou art old,
      And see thy blood warm when thou feel’st it cold.

    In the couplet, the speaker wraps up his persuasion by stressing that the young man will keep some part of his own youthful beauty by wisely producing lovely offspring who will possess the ability to not only mimic his handsome features but who will also carry on his name.  

    After the young man unavoidably moves into old age, he will be able to take comfort in the fact that he can experience the joy that splendid children with warm blood coursing through their veins bring to their sire.  

    The speaker insists that the young man will feel that he has been reinvigorated; the speaker asserts that the young man will be “new made,”  simply by seeing his living children.  Having those children will mean that he will remain fortified against the inescapable horrible coldness of old age. 

    Not only does the speaker desire to use the young man’s vanity to convince him, but he also believes that he must create a scenario in which the young man himself will need to be comforted in his old age.  

    The speaker likely hopes that coldness of old age scenario will strengthen his argumentation.   The claim that old age is a period of cold horror is nothing but fabrication.  

    But the speaker remains desperate to convince the young man that he must marry and procreate.  Thus the speaker continues to concoct any likely event in order to gain the upper hand and ultimately win the argument.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 3 “Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest”

    Shakespeare sonnet 3 “Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest” from the “Marriage Sonnets” focuses on the young man’s image in the mirror.  The speaker is appealing to the young man’s vanity as he continues his persuasive efforts to convince the fellow to marry and have children.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 3  “Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest”

    As in sonnets 1 and 2, the speaker in Shakespeare sonnet 3 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence is pleading with the young man to marry and produce children in order to pass on his handsome features.   The speaker employs many tactics of persuasion as he tries to convince the young man to marry and spring off fine looking progeny.  

    The speaker’s clever repartee is often amusing as well as entertaining and, as it seems the sly speaker possesses an unlimited number of rhetorical tricks that he so freely employs.  The speaker’s ability to argue and persuade is outdone only by his poetic ability to create colorful scenarios of drama.  

    As this speaker argues, he often attempt to direct his arguments for humanitarian purposes.  Fortunately, this speaker never condescends to foolish comparisons but instead keeps his images appropriate as well as fresh.

    Sonnet 3 Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest

    Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest
    Now is the time that face should form another;
    Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
    Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
    For where is she so fair whose unear’d womb
    Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
    Or who is he so fond will be the tomb,
    Of his self-love to stop posterity?
    Thou art thy mother’s glass and she in thee
    Calls back the lovely April of her prime;
    So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,
    Despite of wrinkles this thy golden time.
      But if thou live, remember’d not to be,
      Die single and thine image dies with thee.

    Original Text 

    Better Reading 

    Commentary on Sonnet 3 “Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest”

    Shakespeare sonnet 3 from the “Marriage Sonnets” concentrates on the young man’s image in the looking-glass, as the speaker exploits the young man vanity for persuasive purposes.

    First Quatrain:   Checking out the Face in the Mirror

    Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest
    Now is the time that face should form another;
    Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
    Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.

    In the first quatrain, the speaker begins by demanding that the young man carefully peruse his own face in the looking-glass and tell himself, as he does, that the time is now here for him to produce offspring whose faces will be similar to his own.  

    The speaker wants the young man to believe that if the young fellow does not produce more faces like his own, he will be cheating others, and that includes the mother of those new infants who will inherit his prepossessing qualities.   The speaker is playing on the young man’s sympathy by insisting that the young man’s failure to reproduce children will “unbless some mother.”

    The young fellow will prevent some mother from experiencing the blessings of giving birth and receiving the glory of offering to the world a new generation.   The speaker again puts on display his clever ability to unveil arguments and persuasion that would not only be useful to the young man but would uplift others as well.  

    Second Quatrain:  Questions to Persuade

    For where is she so fair whose unear’d womb
    Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
    Or who is he so fond will be the tomb,
    Of his self-love to stop posterity? 

    As he so often does, the speaker is again employing questions as he tries to persuade the young man to accept his wise counsel that the young fellow marry and  procreate.  The speaker insists that his advice is not only quite reasonable, but it is also the only moral and ethical thing to do.  

    The speaker believes that he must make his argument so well-constructed and accurate that the young fellow cannot possibly disagree with him.  The speaker is totally convinced that his own stance on the issue is the only accurate one.

    In this second quatrain, the speaker asks the young man whether the latter thinks it could be possible that some young lady exists who would not be open to the chance of serving as the mother of the young man’s beautiful offspring.  

    The speaker then brings up the issue again of the young man’s hesitance, querying him if there could be any right thinking young fellow so selfish and self-centered that he would keep the next generation from entering life.

    Third Quatrain:  Same Beauty as His Mother

    Thou art thy mother’s glass and she in thee
    Calls back the lovely April of her prime;
    So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,
    Despite of wrinkles this thy golden time.

    The speaker then begs the young man to think about his relationship to his own mother, reminding him that he has inherited his beauty from his mother.   It is because his own mother had the good fortune to have given birth to him—this handsome young man—that she can be put in mind of her own youth, just by looking at her fine looking son. 

    It should seem quite logical then that after the young man has lived to old age, he will possess the ability to experience his own “April” or “prime,” simply by gazing upon the beautiful, well-formed faces of his own lovely, pleasing offspring.  

    The speaker’s idea of remaining youthful and full of life are dependent upon the next generation, or in order to remain persuasive, so he would insist the young man also believe.    Sometimes individuals will employ an argument simply because the claim may sound feasible, even if the truth of the claim has been yet to be determined.

    The Couplet:  The Young Man’s Image

      But if thou live, remember’d not to be,
      Die single and thine image dies with thee.

    For the entirety of sonnet 3, the speaker has squarely focused on the young man’s physical appearance, as he appears while peering into a look-glass.   The speaker reminds the young fellow of his own youthful appearance and the young man’s mother’s comely looks when she was young.  He also points out that the young man now reflects those good looks.  

    As he focuses directly on image, the speaker hopes to motivate the young man through the strength of the young fellow’s ego.  By shining a bright light on the young man’s physical image, the speaker hopes to create a moral sense of duty in the young man.  If the young fellow refuses to procreate pleasing children, his beautiful image will die as he dies. 

    The speaker is appealing to the universal human urge for immortality, as he attempts to persuade the young man that his own immortality depends upon creating images made after his own.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 4 “Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend”

    Shakespeare sonnet 4 “Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend” from “The Marriage Sonnets” in the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, finds the speaker engaging a finance metaphor to enhance the drama of his argument.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 4 “Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend”

    The speaker of Shakespeare’s thematic group the “Marriage Sonnets” in the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence is using a different metaphor for each poem as he goes on with his one theme of trying to convince this handsome young man to take a wife and reproduce lovely offspring.  The speaker wants the young man to bestow upon his progeny his own pleasing, comely qualities. 

    Sonnet 4 engages a finance/inheritance metaphor, including issues involving lending and spending as it uses terms such  as “spend,” “unthrifty,” “sum,” “bounteous largess,” “executor,” and “audit.”

    In  the “Marriage Sonnets,” the sly speaker is displaying his desire to have the young man marry and produce pleasant, comely children, as he continues to present his persuasive technique in little sonnet dramas.  

    Each drama not only attempts to entice the young man, but it also entertains readers and listeners with its brilliant set of metaphors and images.  The speaker is as resourceful as he is creative in fashioning his arguments.  He often takes advantage of the young man’s sense of responsibility as well as his character flaw of vanity.

    Sonnet 4 “Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend”

    Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend
    Upon thy self thy beauty’s legacy?
    Nature’s bequest gives nothing, but doth lend,
    And being frank she lends to those are free:
    Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse
    The bounteous largess given thee to give?
    Profitless usurer, why dost thou use
    So great a sum of sums, yet canst not live?
    For having traffic with thy self alone,
    Thou of thy self thy sweet self dost deceive:
    Then how when nature calls thee to be gone,
    What acceptable audit canst thou leave?
      Thy unused beauty must be tombed with thee,
      Which, used, lives th’ executor to be.

    Original Text 

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 4 “Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend”

    This sly speaker presents his little drama employing a useful finance metaphor in this entertaining sonnet drama.   He continues to invent colorful scenarios that entertain as well as persuade and convince.

    First Quatrain:  Why Remain so Selfish?

    Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend
    Upon thy self thy beauty’s legacy?
    Nature’s bequest gives nothing, but doth lend,
    And being frank she lends to those are free:

    The speaker begins by asking the young man why he continues to spend his pleasing qualities for only his own self-centered pleasures.   He then tells the young fellow that nature has not merely placed in him his good qualities for himself alone, but instead, Mother Nature has simply put on loan those qualities to the young man. 

    Mother Nature has freely allowed the young man to borrow those pleasing features. The speaker asserts that the young man did not have to earn his handsome characteristics from nature.  However, the young man does have the duty to pass those fine qualities on to the next generation.  Nature has only begun those qualities in him.

    Attempting to appeal to the young man’s sense of duty and to his vanity, the speaker creates his money or financial metaphor to engage the young man’s interest and help him better understand the nature of his argument.   As a counselor, this speaker feels that he must gather all of his strongest arguments to convince the young man just how serious the situation is.

    Second Quatrain:   Misusing His Beauty

    Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse
    The bounteous largess given thee to give?
    Profitless usurer, why dost thou use
    So great a sum of sums, yet canst not live?

    The speaker chides the young fellow by calling him “beauteous niggard”—selfish lovely one.  The speaker insists on knowing why the young man continues to misuse his “bounteous largess.”   Attempting to shame the young fellow by claiming that he is misusing his fine qualities, the speaker thinks he can motivate the young man to do as the speaker feels his should. 

    The speaker has clearly delineated his motives and intentions in the three opening sonnets: that he is in the progress of convincing the young man to take a wife and produces offspring.  Thus the speaker can now permit his metaphor to engage without even naming the exact terms involved, such as marrying and reproducing. 

    The speaker then again is accusing the young fellow of misbehaving as would a “Profitless usurer,” relying on the finance metaphor.  The speaker continues to upbraid the young fellow for storing up his wealth of pleasing features, while instead he should be employing them for the greater good of himself and for the world. 

    The young man’s failure to employ his God-given gifts properly is rendered even worse because he cannot hold on to those gifts forever.   The speaker continues to push the notion of the brevity of the span of life as he attempts to impress upon the young man that the situation is quite urgent.

    Third Quatrain:  Selfishness

    For having traffic with thy self alone,
    Thou of thy self thy sweet self dost deceive:
    Then how when nature calls thee to be gone,
    What acceptable audit canst thou leave?

    In the third quatrain, the speaker again rebukes the young fellow for his selfish behavior for which the speaker is so often accusing him.   The speaker uses his oft-repeated inquiry:  how will you defend your behavior after you have squandered the precious time granted to you, if you do not take my sage advice and live up to your responsibilities?  

    The speaker is always attempting to persuade the young man that he has the best interests of the young fellow at heart as he continues his acts of persuasion.  The speaker touts his befuddlement at just how the young man will be able to explain his selfish attitudes and behavior after the time has arrived for him leave this life.

    If the young man leaves behind no comely heirs who can replace him and continue to present those pleasing qualities, the speaker feels that the young fellow will have no believable defense for his selfishness.    The speaker often pretends to be confused or to lack understanding after he has charged the young fellow with of some odious quality such as officious vanity.  

    The Couplet:  Sorrowful Final Years of Life

      Thy unused beauty must be tombed with thee,
      Which, used, lives th’ executor to be.

    The speaker finally declaims that if the young man does not take a wife and spring off lovely children, the young fellow’s beauty can only die with him.    The speaker has made it abundantly clear that such failure to act as the speaker wishes remains an example of sheer cruelty and failure to do his duty.  

    But if the young fellow would simply take the speaker’s guidance and employ his pleasing qualities appropriately, he will then be able to leave behind a living heir, who, after the death of the progenitor, will then be able to serve as the sire’s executor.  

    The speaker tries to urge the young man to follow his sage advice, by concocting a lonely scene of the young man after old age has crept upon him.  The speaker continues creating scenarios that negatively portray the young man’s situation if the young fellow fails to follow the advice of the speaker.    If the young man continues to remain unmarried and without offspring, the speaker predicts a sorrowful future for the young fellow.

    The desire for pleasing, handsome children to replace the pleasing qualities of the young man after he has become too old to present those qualities continues to weigh on the speaker’s mind.  Thus the speaker continues to employ his considerable talents in persuading and even enlightening the young man to follow his advice and do as the speaker wishes.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 5 “Those hours, that with gentle work did frame”

    The speaker in Shakespeare sonnet 5 “Those hours, that with gentle work did frame” continues fashioning his little dramas, attempting to persuade the young man to marry and procreate lovely offspring to preserve his youth and thus attain a certain degree of immortality.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 5 “Those hours, that with gentle work did frame”

    The speaker of sonnet 5 “Those hours, that with gentle work did frame” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence continues his dedication to creating his little dramas in order to convince the young man that he must marry and produce children to pass on his handsome features and and pleasing qualities.  

    This speaker is a crafty fellow, who now is setting forth a captivating comparison of the summer and winter seasons along with strategies to maintain pleasant physical features.   In his persuasive discourse, the speaker attempts to appeal to the young man’s vanity, even as he attempts to encourage the young fellow’s sense of duty and responsibility.

    Sonnet 5 “Those hours, that with gentle work did frame”

    Those hours, that with gentle work did frame
     The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,
     Will play the tyrants to the very same
     And that unfair which fairly doth excel;
     For never-resting time leads summer on
    To hideous winter, and confounds him there;
     Sap check’d with frost, and lusty leaves quite gone,
     Beauty o’ersnow’d and bareness every where:
     Then, were not summer’s distillation left,
     A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
    Beauty’s effect with beauty were bereft,
    Nor it, nor no remembrance what it was: 
     But flowers distill’d, though they with winter meet,
     Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.

    Original Text 

    Better Reading   

    Commentary on Sonnet 5 “Those hours, that with gentle work did frame”

    This speaker continues to appeal to the young man’s vanity—one of his favorite strategies in his toolkit of persuasion.  His goal remains ever the same, to convince the young man to marry and procreate lovely offspring.

    First Quatrain:  As the Passage of Time Continues to Ravage

    Those hours, that with gentle work did frame
     The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,
     Will play the tyrants to the very same
     And that unfair which fairly doth excel;

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 5, the speaker reminds the young man that an unpleasant aspect of the passing of time is ever on his heals:  on the one hand, it has worked well its magic in creating the young fellow to be a fine looking specimen.

    But on the other hand, the passing of time will ultimately morph itself into a tyrant and transform all of his handsome, fine characteristics into the shriveled ugliness that comes with the ravages of old age.   The young man, whose qualities remain presently quite attractive, causing “every eye [to] dwell” upon those pleasing features, therefore, is obligated to pass those qualities on to the next generation. 

    The speaker believes that time has crafted a marvelously, nearly perfect countenance for the young man; yet, time will also be unrelenting in changing those lovely youthful qualities into a pitiful, unflattering, old man.  

    The speaker is thus employing the images resulting from the damage wreaked by the passing of time to convince the young man that he should marry and spring off lovely children, who will be able to fill a new generation with the young man’s handsome features.

    The speaker had earlier set forth the idea that a special kind of immorality could be attained simply through the process of procreation.  He is basing his notion on the fact that progeny do often look like their parents.    The sad fact also remains that sometimes children are not blessed with the same pleasing physical qualities enjoyed by the parent.  

    However, this speaker, who seems to be a betting man, is counting on the possibility that this young fellow’s offspring would be blessed with those same fine features, now enjoyed by the young man.   The speaker never addresses the issue of true immortality, likely assuming that the young man is so vain that he would not notice such a fine distinction.

    Second Quatrain:  Dark vs Bright Seasons of Life

     For never-resting time leads summer on
    To hideous winter, and confounds him there;
     Sap check’d with frost, and lusty leaves quite gone,
     Beauty o’ersnow’d and bareness every where:

    The speaker now asserts that time is “never-resting” as he then compares summer to winter.  He describes winter as “hideous.”  Naturally, the darkest, coldest season of the year could be thought of as “hideous” when the sap in the trees is no longer flowing smoothly because it is “check’d with frost.”  

    Metaphorically, the speaker then compares the sap in winter trees to human blood. The cold temperature keeps the sap from moving smoothly. Thus it will be similar to the young man’s blood after his physical encasement (body )has become ravaged by the frigidity of old age.  

    As the sap ceases flowing in the trees, the leaves fall from their branches, as hair falls from the heads of the aged, and the beauty of youth is obliterated by all sorts of physical infirmities.

    Metaphorically, the “lusty leaves” compare to the physical attractiveness of the young man—those qualities that reflect the physical beauty to which other people have become attracted.   

    The young fellow should therefore take advantage of his “summer,” that is, his young adulthood, before “winter” or old age causes his blood to become lethargic, thus transforming his beautiful, youthful qualities, leaving them barren and unattractive.

    The speaker has taken notice of the young man’s affection for his own physical characteristics. So the speaker knows he can appeal to the young fellow’s vanity.   The speaker then dramatizes the physical facts of the aging process, rendering that process as stark as possible with his creative, fascinating metaphors.  

    This speaker seems to know that he can concoct an unlimited number of scenarios, in which to station the young man.  He is also well aware of the many personality flaws suffered by the young man, and he can appeal to and exploit them for persuasion.

    Third Quatrain:  Metaphoric Summer and Winter

    Then, were not summer’s distillation left,
     A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
    Beauty’s effect with beauty were bereft,
    Nor it, nor no remembrance what it was: 

    The speaker then dramatizes the summer’s essence as being preserved in the distillation process of flowers to make perfume. The speaker may also be referring to the process of distilling dandelion flowers into wine:  “A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass.”  However, without the offspring of summer, the beauty that had existed would have disappeared, and no one would remember that summer had ever existed.  

    Again through metaphor, the speaker is comparing the result of summer to perfume or wine, trying to show the young man that re-creating his own likeness in lovely children would be a great gift to the world and also to himself.  The speaker continues to enhance the positive qualities of the young man’s character even as he tempts him through his ignoble qualities including vanity and selfishness.  

    If the speaker can convince the young man to offer the gift of beautiful, pleasing children to the world, he can likely persuade him that his life will take on more importance than simply remaining a mere physical presence upon the earth for a brief period of time.

    The Couplet: To Preserve Youth and Beauty

     But flowers distill’d, though they with winter meet,
     Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.

    In the couplet, the speaker is again referring to the perfume/alcohol created during the summer season.  The “flowers” were distilled to result in the “liquid prisoner.”   The speaker reports that even though those flowers had to experience winter, they gave up only beauty to the eye of the beholder.  Their “substance” or essence, however, became the liquid they yielded, and it “still lives sweet.”

    The speaker continues to hope that his persuasion will convince the young man through his vanity and urge him to want to preserve his own youth, if only by proxy.    But the speaker is simply asserting still  another ploy to persuade the young man to marry and spring off pleasing children; thus the speaker is speaking to the young man’s vain quality as well as his sense of self.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 6 “Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface”

    Shakespeare sonnet 6 “Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface” may be considered as a companion piece to Shakespeare sonnet 5. The speaker opens by referring to the same metaphor he employed in the earlier sonnet, the distillation of flowers.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 6 “Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface”

    From the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, sonnet 6 of “The Marriage Sonnets” continues the speaker’s attempts to persuade a young man to marry and produce beautiful offspring.  As this sonnet sequence progresses, a number of fascinating metaphors and images emerge from the speaker’s literary tool kit. 

    The speaker’s passion becomes almost a frenzy as he begs, cajoles, threatens, and shames this young lad, trying to persuade the young fellow that he simply must marry and produce offspring that will perpetuate the lad’s fine qualities.

    Sonnet 6 “Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface”

    Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface
    In thee thy summer, ere thou be distill’d:
    Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place
    With beauty’s treasure, ere it be self-kill’d.  
    That use is not forbidden usury,
    Which happies those that pay the willing loan;
    That’s for thyself to breed another thee,
    Or ten times happier, be it ten for one;
    Ten times thyself were happier than thou art,
    If ten of thine ten times refigur’d thee;
    Then what could death do, if thou shouldst depart,
    Leaving thee living in posterity?
      Be not self-will’d, for thou art much too fair
      To be death’s conquest and make worms thine heir.

    Original Text  

    Better Reading  

    Commentary on Sonnet 6 “Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface”

    Sonnet 6 provides a companion piece to Shakespeare sonnet 5.  Upon opening the sonnet, the speaker is referring to the same metaphor he employed in the earlier sonnet—the distillation of flowers.

    First Quatrain:  Creeping Old Age

    Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface
    In thee thy summer, ere thou be distill’d:
    Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place
    With beauty’s treasure, ere it be self-kill’d.  

    The speaker begins by employing the adverbial conjunction “then” signaling that sonnet 6 is tied to sonnet 5.  He admonishes the young man that the latter should not let creeping old age overtake his youth: the lad must produce an heir to stay that putrid stage of life. 

    Thus the speaker has the season of winter metaphorically functioning as old age and summer as youth, while the process of distillation metaphorically functions as the offspring. The speaker demands of the youth that he create “some vial” to contain the beauty that will be annihilated if the young fellow allows time to pass him by.  

    The speaker is admonishing the young man to “distill” his beauty by pouring that quality into a glass bottle, as a perfume or a liquor would be done.    And again, the speaker emphasizes his signature note, “before it’s too late,” to nudge the young man in the direction toward which the speaker continues to point him—to marry and produce quality offspring.  

    Second Quatrain:   A Money Metaphor

    With beauty’s treasure, ere it be self-kill’d.  
    That use is not forbidden usury,
    Which happies those that pay the willing loan;
    That’s for thyself to breed another thee,

    The speaker then switches to a money or finance metaphor.  He asserts that by completing his assignment to procreate, the speaker will also be employing a proper station for this beauty.  

    By allowing his own lovely features to be inherited by his offspring, the young lad will enhance and brighten the entire universe.   The young man is thus likened to those who repay debts after they have borrowed; after the loan is repaid, all parties are well pleased.  

    The speaker at the same time is implying that if the lad does not reproduce offspring to perpetuate his beauteous qualities, he will be like one who fails to satisfy his debt—a situation that will result in unhappiness and humiliation for all involved. 

    Then the speaker inserts a new notion that he has not heretofore offered; he now proposes the idea that if the young man sires ten offspring, then ten times the happiness will result.   The speaker attempts to demonstrate the marvelous boon that ten heirs would be by numerically stating, “ten times happier, be it ten for one.” 

    Third Quatrain:  Think Hard on Deathlessness

    Or ten times happier, be it ten for one;
    Ten times thyself were happier than thou art,
    If ten of thine ten times refigur’d thee;
    Then what could death do, if thou shouldst depart,
    Leaving thee living in posterity?

    The speaker admires his new solution so much that he repeats the number.   He employs the entire force of his argument by asserting that ten offspring would offer ten times more happiness.   The speaker then asks what misery could death cause as the happy father will be well ensconced in the lives of his progeny, thereby achieving a certain kind of immortality.

    The speaker desires that the young man take it upon himself to think hard on his own desire for deathlessness and how that status would be accomplished by producing lovely offspring to carry on after the young fellow has left his body. 

    The speaker’s question remains rhetorical, as it implies that the lad could win the battle of death by leaving an heir, who would resemble the young man.   Growing old, withering, and leaving this world would be outsmarted, if only the young fellow would marry and procreate, according to the speaker.

    The Couplet:   To Avoid Selfishness

      Be not self-will’d, for thou art much too fair
      To be death’s conquest and make worms thine heir.

    Finally, the speaker demands that the young man not remain “self-will’d,” that is, thinking only of his own pleasure and enjoyment, wishing that the time period of the present could ever exist, and without sufficient cogitation on the future.   The speaker desires to impart to the younger man the notion that the lad’s pleasing qualities are too valuable to permit “worms” to become “[his] heir.”  

    The speaker employs the unpleasantness of nature as well as nature’s loveliness and beauty—whichever seems to further his cause—in convincing the young lad that springing off heirs remains one of his most crucial duties in life.  The speaker continues his efforts to persuade the young man to marry and procreate by portraying old age and death as utterly disagreeable.

    And those qualities of old age and death are especially disagreeable wherein the aging one has not taken the necessary steps against self-destruction by marrying and procreating in order to continue the pleasing qualities of the father. 

    The speaker remains adamant in his demands.  He varies his techniques, images, metaphors, and other elements of his little dramas, but he remains steadfast in his one goal, persuading the young man to marry and produce lovely children.   At times, the speaker seems to be reading the young man’s mind in order to land on the particular set of images that he deems most workable in his attempts. to persuade.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 7 “Lo! in the orient when the gracious light”

    In Shakespeare sonnet 7 “Lo! in the orient when the gracious light,” the speaker, still trying to convince the young man  that he should marry and procreate, is comparing metaphorically the young man’s aging process to the daily journey of sun traveling across the sky.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 7 “Lo! in the orient when the gracious light”

    The sun—that “hot glowing ball of hydrogen and helium – at the center of our solar system“— has always been a useful object for poets to employ metaphorically.  And this talented poet makes use of it often and skillfully.  

    In sonnet 7, the speaker is comparing the age progression of the young lad to the sun’s diurnal journey across the sky.    Earthlings adore the sun in the morning and at noon, but as it begins to set they divert their attention from that fantastic orb. 

    Playing on the vanity of the young man, the speaker urges the lad to take advantage of his time as an object of attention to attract a mate and produce offspring, for like the sun there will come a time when that attraction will fade as the star seems to do at sunset.

     Sonnet 7 “Lo! in the orient when the gracious light” 

    Lo! in the orient when the gracious light  
    Lifts up his burning head, each under eye  
    Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,  
    Serving with looks his sacred majesty;  
    And having climb’d the steep-up heavenly hill,
    Resembling strong youth in his middle age,  
    Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,  
    Attending on his golden pilgrimage;
    But when from highmost pitch, with weary car,  
    Like feeble age, he reeleth from the day,
    The eyes, ’fore duteous, now converted are
    From his low tract, and look another way:
      So thou, thyself outgoing in thy noon,
      Unlook’d on diest, unless thou get a son.

    Original Text 

    Better Reading 

    Commentary on  Sonnet 7 “Lo! in the orient when the gracious light”

    In sonnet 7, the speaker cleverly uses a pun, metaphorically comparing  the young lad’s life trajectory to a diurnal journey of the sun across the sky.

    First Quatrain:  As the Sun Moves Through the Day

    Lo! in the orient when the gracious light  
    Lifts up his burning head, each under eye  
    Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,  
    Serving with looks his sacred majesty;  

    The speaker in sonnet 7 commences his continuing appeal to the young man to sire a child by directing the young lad to muse on the movement of the sun through the day.  After the sun appears in the morning as if waking up, people open their eyes in “homage to his new-appearing sight.”  Earthlings are delighted with each new day’s dawning.  

    The appearance of the sun delights as it warms and brings all things into view, and earth folks seem to intuit that the sun possesses a “sacred majesty” when that bright org first appears in the sky each morning.

    Second Quatrain:  Admiration for Youth

    And having climb’d the steep-up heavenly hill,
    Resembling strong youth in his middle age,  
    Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,  
    Attending on his golden pilgrimage;

    After the sun rises and seems to stand overhead, earth folks go on admiring and adoring the bright star.  And then the speaker makes it abundantly understandable that he is comparing through the device of metaphor the young lad’s youth to that of the daily sunrise and journey across the day.   

    The speaker announces, “Resembling strong youth in his middle age,” a period of time when folks will continue to admire both the sun’s and the young man’s beauty.   And they will keep on treating him royally as he progresses through his “golden pilgrimage”—the sun’s literal golden daily trip across the sky and the young man’s most lustrous years from adulthood on into old age.

    Third Quatrain:  As Eyes Turn Away

    But when from highmost pitch, with weary car,  
    Like feeble age, he reeleth from the day,
    The eyes, ’fore duteous, now converted are
    From his low tract, and look another way:

    However, with the sun beyond the zenith and seemingly moving down in back of the earth again, folks no longer peer at the phenomenal beauty.  And as the darkness of night veils the earth, they turn their eyes away and avert their attention from the once royal majesty that was the sun rising and the sun at midday.   

    After “feeble age” has caused the young lad to go wobbling like an old man, people will divert their attention from him as they do when the sun is going down.  They will not continue to pay homage to that which is fleeing; they will then “look” the other way.

    The Couplet: No One Will Be Looking

    So thou, thyself outgoing in thy noon,
      Unlook’d on diest, unless thou get a son.

    Then the speaker in the couplet blatantly announces to the young man that if the latter permits his youthful beauty to grow dim as the sun grows dim in late evening, no one will be looking at the young fellow anymore, unless he sires an heir, more specifically a son.   

    Sonnet 7 relies on the compelling use of a pun, an entertaining poetic device, as well as the precise biological sex for his heir.   The speaker thus far had not designated whether the offspring should be a daughter or a son that he so much yearns for the young man to father.

    It has always been implied, however, that the child should be a male who can inherit both the father’s physical characteristics as well as his real property.   In this sonnet, the speaker definitely specifies that the young lad will forsake his immortality “unless thou get a son.”  

    Metaphorically, the speaker is comparing  the young man’s life journey to the sun’s daily journey across the sky; thus it is quite fitting that he would employ the term “son,” and the clever speaker undoubtedly held the notion that his pun was quite cute: sun and son.    The prescient speaker is certain his readers will admire his skill in employing that literary device.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 8 “Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly?”

    In Shakespeare sonnet 8 “Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly?,” the speaker again uses his finest logic, attempting to convince the young man that the latter should wed and produce beautiful offspring.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 8 “Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly?”

    In sonnet 8 “Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly?” in “The Marriage Sonnets” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker compares a happy marriage to musical harmony, hoping to evoke in the young lad the desire to attain that harmony in his life.

    The speaker will be offering many different strategies for the same argument as to why the young man should hurry up and marry before old age sets in, destroying his youthful beauty.  

    And the speaker particularly encourages the young man to begat children as a way for his fine physical qualities to be passed on to the next generation.   The clever speaker seems to revel in his own process of creating his little dramas.  

    Each sonnet becomes a showcase, a stage, and blank page upon which to create and perform his balancing act of producing interesting dramas as well as well-argued claims.  This speaker has one goal in mind for his first 17 sonnets, and he clings to its mission with great gusto and zeal.

    Sonnet 8 “Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly?”

    Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly?
    Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy:
    Why lov’st thou that which thou receiv’st not gladly,
    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.’

    Original Text  

    Better Reading  

    Commentary on Sonnet 8 “Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly?”

    The Shakespeare sonnet 8 finds the speaker employing a music metaphor along with his best logic and analyses to convince the young man that he should wed and produce pleasing offspring.

    First Quatrain: The Metaphor of Music

    Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly?
    Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy:
    Why lov’st thou that which thou receiv’st not gladly,
    Or else receiv’st with pleasure thine annoy?

    The speaker employs a metaphor of music in attempting to persuade the young man to realize that both marriage as well a music produce a lovely harmony.   The first quatrain finds the older speaker observing the young man’s glum response to some piece of music they have experienced.  

    The speaker asks the young man about this gloomy expression, stating, “Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy.”   According the speaker, the young man is a pleasingly handsome individual; therefore, he is a “sweet” man; thus, the speaker asserts that the young lad should discern the same qualities in the music that he himself possesses.

    The speaker continues to query the young man about his response to the music by asking him if he would like to receive that which he was glad to have or if receiving what pleases him would disappoint him. 

    It sounds like a knotty question, but the speaker, as always, is attempting to influence the young man into believing that his status as a single, wifeless/childless man is a negative state of affairs.  

    The speaker’s verbal attempt remains colorful, employing sweetness, joy, and music as objects of pleasure, instilling in the young man the notion that the latter’s sweet qualities are too important not to be shared with the next generation.

    Second Quatrain: Marriage as Pleasing as Musical Harmony

    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.

    The speaker wishes for the young man to comprehend that a harmonious life like musical melody is to be attained with a solid marriage.  The metaphor of harmonious music seems to remain ineffectual because the young lad appears to have separated out individual parts of the music for pleasure instead hearing the sum of the harmonious parts.

    And the speaker hopes to make the young man realize that a harmonious marriage which produces beautiful offspring is as pleasing to the world as a piece of beautiful music that has its various parts working together to produce the whole.

    Third Quatrain: Strings That Play

    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:

    The speaker then compares the family of father, mother, and child to the strings that when played in the proper sequence result in the lovely song: “one pleasing note do sing.”  

    The speaker hopes that the young man will accept his fervent urgings to marry and take on a family, instead of  allowing his good qualities to waste away in the frivolity of bachelorhood.  

    The speaker is convinced that if the young man fails to pass on his pleasing features, he will have wasted his life.  The speaker’s use of the musical metaphor shows the speaker’s emphasis on physical beauty.  He also refers to the mother of those beautiful offspring.  

    If the young man marries and produces those lovely heirs, the union will also be adding to the world a “happy mother.”  The pleasing family filled with grace and beauty will enhance the world as beautiful music from a symphony does.

    The Couplet: No Family, No Music

    Whose speechless song, being many, seeming one,
    Sings this to thee: ‘Thou single wilt prove none.’

    The couplet finds the speaker, as usual, nearly begging the young man to understand that if he remains a bachelor, thus producing no family, no offspring, his life will have no music.

    And the young fellow will continue to remain without the wonderful qualities of harmony and beauty.  The music metaphor, thus, has offered beauty as a goal as well as the peace and harmony that the speaker desires for the young man.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 9 “Is it for fear to wet a widow’s eye”

    In sonnet 9“Is it for fear to wet a widow’s eye,” the speaker queries the young man about another possible reason for his remaining single:  does he fear leaving some poor woman a widow?

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 9 “Is it for fear to wet a widow’s eye”

    In Shakespeare sonnet 9 from the thematic group “The Marriage Sonnets” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence,  the older and supposedly wiser speaker is now querying the lad about another likely reason for the young man’s remaining single: does he perhaps fear causing some poor woman to become a member in that sorrowful lot called widowhood?  

    The speaker knows this supposition is without merit.  He is merely conjuring up every accusation that he can hurl at the young fellow as he tries to influence the young man’s behavior.  The speaker’s dramas keep getting more and more stark as he seems to grow more and more desperate to have the young man marry and produce beautiful offspring. 

    It seems that no accusation is too severe.  Appealing to the young man’s vanity seems to get him nowhere, so he has decided to appeal to the lad’s sense of shame.  No young man would want to be accused of committing murder like a common misanthrope.

    Sonnet 9 “Is it for fear to wet a widow’s eye”

    Is it for fear to wet a widow’s eye,
    That thou consum’st thy self in single life?
    Ah! if thou issueless shalt hap to die,
    The world will wail thee like a makeless wife;
    The world will be thy widow and still weep
    That thou no form of thee hast left behind,
    When every private widow well may keep
    By children’s eyes, her husband’s shape in mind:
    Look! what an unthrift in the world doth spend
    Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoys it;
    But beauty’s waste hath in the world an end,
    And kept unused the user so destroys it
      No love toward others in that bosom sits
      That on himself such murd’rous shame commits.

    Original Text 

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    Commentary on Sonnet 9 “Is it for fear to wet a widow’s eye”

    Sonnet 9 finds the speaker querying the young man about yet an additional possible, though rather absurd, reason for his failure to marry:  does the young man fear leaving some poor woman a widow?

    First Quatrain:   A Blunt Question

    Is it for fear to wet a widow’s eye,
    That thou consum’st thy self in single life?
    Ah! if thou issueless shalt hap to die,
    The world will wail thee like a makeless wife;

    In the first quatrain, the speaker bluntly puts the question to the young man:  do you linger in bachelorhood because you are afraid of causing some young woman to suffer widowhood if you should die?  

    The speaker goes on approaching the subject from every angle, as he chides the young lad for not taking a wife.  The notion now is crossing the speaker’s mind that the young man may not want to take the chance of leaving behind a crying widow. 

    The speaker as usual is creating what he seems to deem a solid suggestion; yet, it remains a rather flimsy, straw man which he will now have to allow the young man to watch him burn down. 

    But the speaker’s spin on such a fear is that if the young man dies “issueless,” that is, without offspring, he will make the whole world sad, crying for him, not just a poor woman who would then be without a mate upon his death.   Thus the speaker wants the young man to think in broader terms than just one family.

    Second Quatrain:  Mourning the Loss of a Generation

    The world will be thy widow and still weep
    That thou no form of thee hast left behind,
    When every private widow well may keep
    By children’s eyes, her husband’s shape in mind:

    The speaker frames his claim quite clearly as he repeats: not only one woman would weep if you shuffle off, but the whole world with weep and suffer if you fail to leave without issuing forth some lovely offspring to populate the next generation.  

    If the young man died, the world would not only mourn his loss, but it would also mourn the fact that such a fine, human specimen left behind no beautiful children to take his place.

    If, however, the young man takes the advice of his elder, upon his possible demise, his widow would have their beautiful children who allow her to remember and thereby enjoy the pleasing appearance of her spouse. 

    The speaker hopes again to play upon the sympathy of the young man, while offering him logical possibilities to consider.  The young man’s single life is found wanting in every way in the eyes of this speaker, who might be considered meddling in affairs which are none of his business.

    Third Quatrain:  Urging with Logic

    Look! what an unthrift in the world doth spend
    Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoys it;
    But beauty’s waste hath in the world an end,
    And kept unused the user so destroys it.

    In the third quatrain, the speaker offers another supposedly logical argument to support his urging the young man to marry and produce offspring.  When a spendthrift extravagantly squanders his money on things he does not need, he does not really do any damage in the world; he merely moves things around a bit.  

    The money and the material things still belong to the world.  But when one wastes one’s beauty, one wastes something of value, and its value is precious because it will end.  If one does not pass on one’s beauty and pleasing qualities by siring pleasing offspring, he simply destroys that beauty.    The speaker is playing on the vanity as well as the sympathy of the young man, as he employs his powers of persuasion.

    The Couplet:   Misanthropic Selfishness

      No love toward others in that bosom sits
      That on himself such murd’rous shame commits.

    In the couplet, the speaker hurls a stark but exaggerated notion:  that the young man’s behavior is bordering on misanthropy, as he employs the “either/or” fallacy, implying that if the young man does not love others, he surely must hate them to the point of murder.

    The speaker opines that the young man could not possess a loving heart and affection toward his fellow humans, if he is so selfish as to waste his beauty and pleasing qualities on himself, while failing to father the next generation of beauty and pleasing qualities.  The speaker accuses the young man of committing a “murderous shame”—an exaggeration aimed at stirring the young fellow to action.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 10 “For shame! deny that thou bear’st love to any”

    In sonnet 10 “For shame! deny that thou bear’st love to any,” the speaker challenges the young man’s sense of self, regarding his love and affection for others.  The speaker exaggerates the lack as “murderous hate.”

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 10 “For shame! deny that thou bear’st love to any”

    In sonnet 10 from the thematic group “The Marriage Sonnets” in the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker so desperately desires the young man to marry and produce beautiful offspring that he resorts to exaggerating the young man’s likely egotism.  

    This sonnet sequence demonstrates the creative power and talent of the speaker’s ability to dramatize his continuing and deepening wish that the young man heed his advice.   The insistent speaker ultimately begs the lad to do it for the speaker even if he will not do it for himself.

    Sonnet 10 “For shame! deny that thou bear’st love to any”

    For shame! deny that thou bear’st love to any
     Who for thyself art so unprovident.
    Grant, if thou wilt, thou art belov’d of many, 
    But that thou none lov’st is most evident; 
    For thou art so possess’d with murderous hate 
    That ’gainst thyself thou stick’st not to conspire, 
    Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate 
    Which to repair should be thy chief desire.
     O! change thy thought, that I may change my mind: 
    Shall hate be fairer lodg’d than gentle love?
    Be, as thy presence is, gracious and kind, 
    Or to thyself at least kind-hearted prove: 
     Make thee another self, for love of me,
      That beauty still may live in thine or thee.

    Original Text  

    Better Reading 

    Commentary on Sonnet 10 “For shame! deny that thou bear’st love to any”

    The speaker is now challenging the young man’s sense of self, vis-à-vis his love and affection for others.  The speaker then exaggerates his possible lack as being “murderous hate.”  The speaker’s employment of exaggeration often adds to the drama of his pleadings.

    First Quatrain:   Accusations of Selfishness

    For shame! deny that thou bear’st love to any
     Who for thyself art so unprovident.
    Grant, if thou wilt, thou art belov’d of many, 
    But that thou none lov’st is most evident; 

    The speaker in the couplet of sonnet 9 “Is it for fear to wet a widow’s eye” had accused the young man:  you must hold a deadly contempt for your fellow man to remain so utterly selfish. 

    In this sonnet 10 “For shame! deny that thou bear’st love to any,” the speaker carries on with this theme of accusation against the young man for loving no one but himself.    The speaker has often teased and rebuked the young man for his selfishness; thus now the speaker is labeling such selfishness a murderous crime.  An exaggeration, for sure!

    The speaker yells accusingly,”For shame!”  And then the older man provokes the young man to repudiate the fact that he is negligent of others, that the latter is, in fact, a charitable individual to others, at least as much so as they are to him. 

     The speaker refreshes the young lad’s memory that the latter certainly is cognizant that many other people feel love and affection for the young lad, but that the young man does not reciprocate that affection remains obvious—”is most evident.”

    Second Quatrain:  Exaggeration, Reprimands, Deadly Hatred

    For thou art so possess’d with murderous hate 
    That ’gainst thyself thou stick’st not to conspire, 
    Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate 
    Which to repair should be thy chief desire.

    The speaker continues to exaggerate his claims in the second quatrain as he upbraids the young lad for holding deadly hatred in his heart.    This speaker wants to impress the young man with the notion that such disaffection negatively impacts the interests of the latter.  If the young man were to allow destruction of his own home and did nothing to stop it, he would be very foolish.

    The speaker pours shame on such an attitude, asserting that the younger man should seek to rebuild his home from any damage.  His “chief desire” should be the reconstruction of house or heart. 

    Of course, the speaker is repeating the employment of his metaphor as he nudges the young man to guard himself from the ruination of leaving this life while leaving behind no sons and daughters.

    Third Quatrain:  Begins Begging

    O! change thy thought, that I may change my mind: 
    Shall hate be fairer lodg’d than gentle love?
    Be, as thy presence is, gracious and kind, 
    Or to thyself at least kind-hearted prove: 

    In the third quatrain, the speaker has continued his begging of the young man to change his thinking so the speaker can also change his own notions.  The speaker does not wish to continue to believe that such heinous crimes of hate are actually nursed and nurtured in the heart of this beautiful, pleasant young individual.  

    Fashioned as a rhetorical question, the speaker queries the lad whether it is easier to hate or easier to love.   Again, the speaker is trying to convince the young man that the former’s argument can be well supported.  The speaker then gives the lad a command, telling him to use kindness and grace because such qualities constitute the lad’s appearance.  

    By showing his love and affection for a woman and producing an heir, the young man will be showing that he can take care of himself.  The speaker has already demonstrated the bitter coldness, loneliness, and isolation of dying without leaving an heir.  Now, he wants the lad to, at least, be kind to himself.

    The Couplet:  Do It for Me!

      Make thee another self, for love of me,
      That beauty still may live in thine or thee.

    In the couplet, the speaker invokes his own position in the young man’s heart as he commands the lad to produce offspring, even for the speaker’s sake as well as his own.  If the young will not produce the offspring solely for himself, then the speaker asks him to do so for the speaker.   And then the speaker returns to the perpetuation of beauty theme.

    Although there are many reasons for procreating offspring, the passing on of beauty is one of the most important for a vain young man.  At least, the speaker is counting on that vanity being a significant part of the equation.

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    Shakespeare Sonnet 11 “As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow’st”

    In sonnet 11 “As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow’st,” the older, persuasive speaker continues to urge the young man to marry and produce pleasing offspring.  The clever speaker seems to strongly desire a son-in-law who will bestow a pleasing grandchild upon him.

    Introduction and Text of Sonnet 11 “As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow’st”

    In “Marriage Sonnet” 11 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker continues to evoke the young man’s pleasing qualities, claiming that the young fellow has an obligation to marry and pass them on to offspring. 

    The older man seems to believe strongly that the older generation lives through the younger one, or so he would have the young man believe, as long as that notion props up the speaker’s argument.

    The speaker, with each new drama, demonstrates his creative ability to invent arguments and present them in new and entertaining ways.   As he grows more desperate that the young man produce offspring, the speaker grows more inventive, employing colorful and varied metaphors and exciting, bracing images.

    Sonnet 11 “As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow’st”

    As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow’st,
    In one of thine, from that which thou departest;
    And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestow’st,
    Thou mayst call thine when thou from youth convertest,
    Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase;
    Without this folly, age, and cold decay:
    If all were minded so, the times should cease
    And threescore year would make the world away.
    Let those whom nature hath not made for store,
    Harsh, featureless, and rude, barrenly perish:
    Look, whom she best endow’d, she gave thee more;
    Which bounteous gift thou shouldst in bounty cherish:
      She carv’d thee for her seal, and meant thereby,
      Thou shouldst print more, not let that copy die.

    Original Text  

    Better Reading 

    Commentary on Sonnet 11 “As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow’st” 

    It is likely that the young man in “The Marriage Sonnets” is Henry Wriothesley, the third earl of Southampton, who is being urged to marry Elizabeth de Vere, the oldest daughter of the writer of the Shakespeare sonnets, Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford.  

    The older, persuasive speaker continues to urge the young man to marry and produce pleasing offspring.  The clever speaker seems to strongly desire a son-in-law who will bestow pleasing grandchildren upon him.

    First Quatrain:  The Imploring Continues

    As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow’st,
    In one of thine, from that which thou departest;
    And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestow’st,
    Thou mayst call thine when thou from youth convertest,

    The speaker in this sonnet continues to implore the young man to marry and produce offspring.  This time he is chiding the young fellow, reminding him that he will grow old and wither. 

    But if the younger man will just listen to the older, mature fellow, he can mitigate the difficulty:  his good looks and amiable personality will live on in his heir, or so the speaker appears to believe.   The speaker has, at least, convinced himself that people continue living in their offspring. 

    The speaker likely only marginally believes such tripe and still has no compunction against using the notion to persuade the young man to marry his daughter.   The speaker tries to persuade the young man to believe that his own blood will then be freshened in his offspring, even as the blood in his body becomes broken and stale.

    Second Quatrain:   To Achieve Wisdom

    Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase;
    Without this folly, age, and cold decay:
    If all were minded so, the times should cease
    And threescore year would make the world away.

    The speaker urges the young man to believe that the latter will be wise in his behavior only if he marries and has children.  Only by reproducing will he offer beautiful, wonderful acts to the world.  

    He will be productive instead of destructive, giving to the world, instead of merely taking from it.  The speaker fears that by aging without reproducing, the young man will eventually have to give in to “cold decay.”   But if the young fellow has produced offspring, he will avoid the pain folly of growing old alone and failing the world by leaving it without his progeny. 

    The speaker then pours out the old chestnut that goes, what if everyone behaved as callously as you, not marrying and reproducing?    Well, according to the speaker, the world would come to an end in only two or three generations.  A dour thought for sure, something for the young to cogitate upon.

    Third Quatrain:  Brutish Prigs and Their Ilk

    Let those whom nature hath not made for store,
    Harsh, featureless, and rude, barrenly perish:
    Look, whom she best endow’d, she gave thee more;
    Which bounteous gift thou shouldst in bounty cherish:

    The speaker then offers the notion that only brutish prigs would allow the world the end this way.  If the beautiful, pleasing people fail to multiply, the multiplying will be done by those whose qualities are “harsh”  and “featureless” and “rude.” 

    According to such logic, the folks who possess unpleasing qualities should not reproduce at all.  The speaker assumes that the young man will agree with such a policy.  But the speaker also wants to instill in his protege that the latter does possess pleasing qualities in abundance. 

    The speaker hopes to make the young man aware that he should cherish his beauty and be so proud of it that he would choose to produce children who would naturally possess those same qualities. 

    The Couplet:  Qualities to be Copied

    She carv’d thee for her seal, and meant thereby,
      Thou shouldst print more, not let that copy die.

    In the couplet, the speaker utilizes the metaphor of a printing press.  Nature has given the young man qualities that she would like to have copied.   He is the original print copy, and if he will only marry and produces offspring, he will be like a printing press, shooting out copies of the beautiful text of himself. The speaker says, “print more” so the original does not die.  

    The speaker seems to be in a contest with himself, trying to find as many “copy” and “reproduce” metaphors as possible.  Of course, the speaker’s real mission in these marriage poems is to instill in the young man the speaker’s notion that the young man should marry.

    And the older man insists that he is offering his advice that the young man follow it not just for the young man alone, but also for reproducing offspring to bestow upon the world a set of pleasing qualities of beauty and fine physical features.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 12 “When I do count the clock that tells the time”

    The speaker in sonnet 12 “When I do count the clock that tells the time” is comparing the young man’s youth to nature being undercut by “Time’s scythe,” a sharp blade that slices through all lives. Nature’s progression through the seasons of a year becomes a useful metaphor for human aging.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 12 “When I do count the clock that tells the time”

    The speaker of Shakespeare’s marriage poem 12 from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence again shows how changing nature always comes under “Time’s scythe,” and only one remedy can fend off that transformation, according the thinking of this speaker is producing an heir.  

    In marriage sonnet 12 “When I do count the clock that tells the time,”the speaker frames a series of “when” clauses followed by “then” clauses.  In other words, he proposes a situation as “when such and such happens, then one can expect such and such will result.” 

    Sonnet 12 “When I do count the clock that tells the time”

    When I do count the clock that tells the time
    And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
    When I behold the violet past prime,
    And sable curls, all silver’d o’er with white;
    When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
    Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
    And summer’s green all girded up in sheaves,
    Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard,  
    Then of thy beauty do I question make,
    That thou among the wastes of time must go,
    Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake
    And die as fast as they see others grow;  
      And nothing ’gainst Time’s scythe can make defence
      Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.

    Original Text 

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 12 “When I do count the clock that tells the time”

    In sonnet 12 “When I do count the clock that tells the time,” the speaker metaphorically likens the young man’s youth to nature giving way to time which will cut him down unless he acts as the speaker wishes.

    First Quatrain:  Night Encroaching on Day

    When I do count the clock that tells the time
    And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
    When I behold the violet past prime,
    And sable curls, all silver’d o’er with white;

    In the first quatrain, the speaker begins his series of “when clauses” by asserting that when he looks at the clock and sees times flying by and the “brave day” is being engulfed in the “hideous night,” and when he sees a young man like a fresh flower turning into an old gray haired man . . . .  Abruptly, the quatrain stops with a semi-colon; at that point, it is not known where the speaker might go with his “when” clauses.

    The speaker cleverly employs this “when/then” technique to create his drama of imagining a sequence of events.  The notion that if something happens, something else will surely follow remains a mainstay in the creation of literature.  

    The employment of the term “when” may be replaced with “if” or the conjunction “after” and the same result will ensue: an event occurs heralding the question, what happens next?    This set-up provides the speaker with opportunity to dramatize his opinion on the matter.

    Second Quatrain:  Compared to a Tree

    When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
    Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
    And summer’s green all girded up in sheaves,
    Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard,

    In the second quatrain, the speaker is continuing metaphorically to compare young man’s youth to trees that lose their leaves.  What had once provided a leafy roof against the summer’s blazing sun becomes a heap of dry, bristly leaves, metaphorically resembling the old age features of a man with a gray beard that replaces that deep brunette/black of youth. 

    It becomes evident that the speaker once again is likening the youth of the young lad to naturally occurring things and events.   Particularly useful to the speaker is the ability to compare the young man to the leaves on trees, useful when young, not so much after they dry up and drop off the tree.  

    The clever speaker invokes the natural occurrence of changing seasons in order to compare the life of the young man to the ravages of time.   The seasonal changes run in only one direction, from freshness and youth to decay and old age.  As spring time represents youth, fall and winter become useful metaphors for the aging human’s physical encasement.

    Third Quatrain:   Then What Happens?

    Then of thy beauty do I question make,
    That thou among the wastes of time must go,
    Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake
    And die as fast as they see others grow;  

    The third quatrain supplies the “then” or result of all the “whens”:  then the youth and beauty that nature possessed passes away.   And the speaker wants to ask the young man if he thinks his own beauty will not go “among the wastes of time.”  

    Because these other natural things—the day that sinks into night, the violet that withers in time, the black hair that turns gray, the trees in summer that lose their leaves to winter—lose their youthful attributes, how can the young man not realize that he too will come under the sway of nature?

    The employment of the question provides a useful emphasis for the speaker to place before the young man’s consciousness.  It offers a strong confrontation, such as “don’t you realize that time is not on your side?”  

    And even as the speaker implies the answer, he remains steadfast in his own estimate that the young must realize that as the seasons change from spring to winter, his own lifetime of seasons will also undergo this inevitable transformation.    So what is to be done becomes the next logical thought in this progression of imaginings.

    The Couplet:   Hurry Up and Reproduce!

      And nothing ’gainst Time’s scythe can make defence
      Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.

    The couplet then offers the complete redress of the grievance against the aging process, as time which acting as a “scythe” begins cutting down the young man’s pleasing youthful qualities.  The speaker then makes his assertion that the only way to overcome “Time’s scythe” is for the young man to marry and produce pleasing offspring. 

    By this time, no reader will be surprised by the solution to the concocted problem dramatized by the speaker.  His mission is to get the young man married and producing these lovely, pleasing children.  

    That the speaker has asserted another reason which affects the young man’s own vanity and love of his own youthfulness will play into the speaker’s argument which he so desperately wants to win.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 13 “O! That you were yourself; but, love, you are”

    The speaker in Shakespeare sonnet 13 “O! That you were yourself; but, love, you are” is continuing his attempts to appeal to the young man’s sense of duty to his fellow man—just one of this speakers many tactics that he employs to convince the young man to do as the speaker wishes.

    Introduction with Text ofSonnet 13 “O! That you were yourself; but, love, you are”

    In sonnet 13, the speaker continues to plead with the young fellow to engage in matrimony in order to father a child.  Again, the speaker continues to remain very specific, telling the young man that he had a father, and now he should allow his own son to attain that same quality.

    The speaker of marriage sonnet 13 is the very same as the one in the “Marriage Sonnets” 1–12.  He concocts his clever scenarios in order to bolster his argument.  His powers of persuasion are as colorful as is his use of poetic technique.

    Readers will therefore perceive correctly the same purpose perpetuated by his theme as the speaker continues to encourage, cajole, and wheedle the young fellow into marriage and the production of lovely offspring; the speaker, of course, is particularly interested in the young man producing male offspring, thus, the emphasis on “son” in the final line of this sonnet.

    Sonnet 13 “O! That you were yourself; but, love, you are”

    O! that you were yourself; but, love, you are
    No longer yours, than you your self here live:
    Against this coming end you should prepare,
    And your sweet semblance to some other give:
    So should that beauty which you hold in lease
    Find no determination; then you were
    Yourself again, after yourself’s decease,
    When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear.
    Who lets so fair a house fall to decay,
    Which husbandry in honour might uphold
    Against the stormy gusts of winter’s day  
    And barren rage of death’s eternal cold?  
      O! none but unthrifts. Dear my love, you know  
      You had a father: let your son say so.

    Original Text 

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    Commentary on Sonnet 13 “O! That you were yourself; but, love, you are”

    The speaker in Shakespeare sonnet 13 is attempting to appeal to the young man’s sense of duty to his fellow man.  He wishes to make clear that living a morally upstanding life of a human being does not mean existing only for oneself.  

    First Quatrain:  The Delusion of Self-Creation

    O! that you were yourself; but, love, you are
    No longer yours, than you your self here live:
    Against this coming end you should prepare,
    And your sweet semblance to some other give:

    In the first quatrain, the speaker seems to be speaking nonsense as he continues his cajoling of the young man. The speaker is suggesting that if only the young lad were created solely to exist for himself, he might avoid the bother of needing to marry and produce the succeeding generation. The speaker, however, wishes to assert that living the life of a human being does not mean existing only for oneself.  

    The speaker wants the young man to accept his beliefs: the speaker insists that the  current generation must keep in mind that it is responsible for raising and nurturing the succeeding generation.  The speaker seems to profess a lofty, altruistic point of view.

    Therefore, the speaker again demands:  “Against the coming end you should prepare.”  The speaker suggests that the young fellow propagate children in order that the future may not go without the young lad’s pleasing features. As the young man’s offspring will, naturally, resemble their father, the young man will in a sense, continue to live, even after his departure from the earth.

    Second Quatrain:  Temporally Sensitive Qualities

    So should that beauty which you hold in lease
    Find no determination; then you were
    Yourself again, after yourself’s decease,
    When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear.

    The pleasant features and qualities of the young man are temporary.  Thus because those qualities remain temporary gifts, the lad should take responsibility and pass them on to his children.  The act of producing children who will naturally lay claim to the same beautiful features of their father will thereby offer their pleasantries to the world of the future.

    The speaker continues to seek out new ways in which to arouse the handsome young man’s vanity.  The speaker stresses those pleasant qualities of the young man while then asserting that the lad has the obligation to pass his lovely qualities to his children, thereby keeping those qualities from dying out.

    Third Quatrain:   The Metaphorical House

    Who lets so fair a house fall to decay,
    Which husbandry in honour might uphold
    Against the stormy gusts of winter’s day  
    And barren rage of death’s eternal cold?  

    In the third quatrain, the speaker compares the lad’s physical body to that of a house.  He then rhetorically suggests with his question:  “Who lets so fair a house fall to decay”?  Of course, when there is hope of restoring it, no one would do so.

    The speaker is thus suggesting that no one of proper thought and disposition would ever let a nice house become decrepit.  The speaker insists that it is appropriate as well as moral to keep a fine building in good shape and protect it from the damaging effects of the weather as well as the ravages of time.

    The speaker continues to hope that the young man may be finally convinced by his comparison of the young man’s body to a building or that of a fine house.  The speaker hopes the lad would want to protect a fine home with its residents from those same damaging effects of time and weather.

    The Couplet:   Speaking Frankly

     O! none but unthrifts. Dear my love, you know  
      You had a father: let your son say so.

    The speaker has become rather straightforward even extremely frank, as he even answers his own question.  He admonishes the young man that, of course, only the disgustingly wasteful would permit such a fine, sturdy building to fall into decrepitude.

    The speaker then becomes even more candid as he declaims directly:   you yourself possessed a father; allow your children (“son”) to do the same.   Thus, again the speaker is commanding the young lad to get married and commence the production of those pleasing offspring. Only that will render him immortal and fulfill the world’s need for beauty and pleasing features that the young man abundantly possesses.

    Shakespeare  Sonnet 14 “Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck”

    In marriage sonnet 14 “Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck,” the speaker says he does not have the power to predict the future by gazing at the stars in the sky, but the eyes of the young man tell all he needs to know.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 14 “Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck”

    In sonnet 14 from the thematic group, “The Marriage Sonnets,” in the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker continues his mission of persuasion.  This time he is contrasting the act of predicting the future by supernatural vs natural means. 

    The speaker hopes that his ability to predict that future by natural means will be more persuasive with the young man, who is apparently quite vain about his appearance.   By concentrating on the young man’s eyes instead of the heavenly orbs, the speaker demonstrates the importance of the physical encasement (the human body) to those future generations he is so compelled to herald.

    Sonnet 14 “Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck”

    Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck  
    And yet methinks I have astronomy,
    But not to tell of good or evil luck,
    Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons’ quality;
    Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell,
    Pointing to each his thunder, rain, and wind,
    Or say with princes if it shall go well,
    By oft predict that I in heaven find:
    But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,  
    And, constant stars, in them I read such art
    As ‘Truth and beauty shall together thrive,
    If from thyself to store thou wouldst convert;’  
      Or else of thee this I prognosticate:
      ‘Thy end is truth’s and beauty’s doom and date.’

    Original Text 

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 14 “Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck”

    In sonnet 14 “Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck,” the speaker is creating a contrast between himself and those who would seek to predict the future by astrology.  Remaining more scientific, this clever speaker uses his powers of observation of those nearby phenomena to predict certain future events.

    First Quatrain:  Stars and the Future

    Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck  
    And yet methinks I have astronomy,
    But not to tell of good or evil luck,
    Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons’ quality;

    In the first quatrain of the sonnet 14 “Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck,” the speaker says he is no guided by astrological star patterns to predict the future.  The speaker does, however, have an understanding of astronomy, but still he cannot predict who will have good fortune or who will experience bad fortune.  

    Nor can he say if life will be threatened by scourges or even if the weather may be pleasant.  Though he may have some layman’s knowledge of the stars, he cannot use them to tell the future.

    The speaker’s intention of focusing on the eyes of the young man has led him to approach the subject in a rather circuitous manner, by making much of his inability to use the heavenly orbs for prognostications.  

    Likely he wishes to impart the notion that just because he cannot predict through the stars, nevertheless he can clearly grasp the information being conveyed to him through the young man’s facial expressions—especially the lad’s eyes.

    Second Quatrain:  Future Predictions

    Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell,
    Pointing to each his thunder, rain, and wind,
    Or say with princes if it shall go well,
    By oft predict that I in heaven find:

    The speaker continues to say that he cannot even predict the future happenings of the next few minutes; he has no idea whether the weather will include “thunder, rain, and wind.”  In addition, he also cannot say how well the reign of certain princes may transpire.  The stars do not speak to him of fortune or misfortune.  

    The speaker is implying that the stars in the heavens, while comparing favorably with the young man’s beauty, are not the focus of the speaker, whose argument will remain grounded on earth.

    Again, the speaker emphasizes what he is not going to say before actually saying his piece.  He seems to be keeping his main idea a mystery as he concocts his little drama.  Likely, he is playing to the young man’s sense of curiosity.  The young fellow will wonder just what the older advisor is up to now with all this I-cannot-predict-the-future razzmatazz.

    Third Quatrain:   Eyes Instead of Stars

    But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,  
    And, constant stars, in them I read such art
    As ‘Truth and beauty shall together thrive,
    If from thyself to store thou wouldst convert;’  

    Indeed, instead of from the heavenly stars, the speaker acquires his knowledge from the young man’s eyes; those eyes are “constant stars” that the speaker has no difficulty reading.  And what the speaker reads in those eyes is a lovely commingling of two of the speaker’s favorite qualities—truth and beauty.  

    The speaker then asserts that those qualities can remain complete only if placed in trust with the next generation.   In fact, the truth and beauty that exist in the young man shall continue to “thrive,” only if the lad will not continue to store those qualities unused.

    However, if the young man will change his mind about remaining single and, instead, marry and produce a suitable heir, who then can carry on those qualities of truth and beauty, those qualities will continue to thrive.

    The Couplet:  Natural Not Supernatural

      Or else of thee this I prognosticate:
      ‘Thy end is truth’s and beauty’s doom and date.’

    The speaker then does make a prediction that if the young man does not produce a pleasing son to carry on those worthwhile qualities, after the young man dies, so will those qualities.  He declares and predicts that without suitable offspring as a place to invest those lovely qualities of truth and beauty, those features will be lost.  

    Thus the speaker’s purpose in sonnet 14 in explaining his lack of ability to predict the future by supernatural means is that he wants to underscore the importance of his being able to predict the future by completely natural means:  if the young man dies without leaving an heir, all of the lad’s pleasant qualities will die with him.  

    Even though the speaker has taken a rather complicated path rambling through his little drama, he concludes with the simplicity of his goal.   He simply wants to persuade the young man to marry and produce those beautiful heirs, and he will use whatever circuitous paths he deems necessary to accomplish that simple straight forward goal.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 15 “When I consider every thing that grows”

    In marriage sonnet 15 “When I consider every thing that grows” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the speaker employs a “Time” metaphor again within the when-then structure to persuade the young man to marry and produce offspring.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 15 “When I consider every thing that grows”

    In the first quatrain of sonnet 15 “When I consider every thing that grows” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence, the creative thinking speaker fashions a when-then structure in which to play out his claims.  He begins a “when” clause which leaves the first quatrain an incomplete sentence. 

    In the second quatrain, the speaker again employs that same pattern, and the thought is not complete until the third quatrain, beginning with the “then” clause of the structure.  The speaker uses this pattern often:  when such-and-such happens, then such-and-such is the result.

    This when-then pattern becomes useful as the speaker compares two events or two situations, with one presently occurring while the other will occur sometime later on and be influenced by the present event or situation.  

    This rhetorical device works especially well for the drama, which the speaker of these highly stylized sonnets wishes to achieve in his sonnet sequence.  His powers of persuasion result in colorful little dramas that remain entertaining as well as educational and inspirational for their poetic craftsmanship.

    Sonnet 15 “When I consider every thing that grows”

    When I consider every thing that grows
    Holds in perfection but a little moment,
    That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows
    Whereon the stars in secret influence comment;
    When I perceive that men as plants increase,
    Cheered and check’d e’en by the self-same sky,
    Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,  
    And wear their brave state out of memory;
    Then the conceit of this inconstant stay  
    Sets you most rich in youth before my sight,
    Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay,
    To change your day of youth to sullied night;
      And, all in war with Time for love of you,
      As he takes from you, I engraft you new.

    Original Text 

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Sonnet 15 “When I consider every thing that grows”

    The speaker employs this pattern often:  when such-and-such happens, then such-and-such will be the result. He also relies on “time” as a phenomenon of power over nature and the human physical encasement.

    First Quatrain:  First “When” Clause

    When I consider every thing that grows
    Holds in perfection but a little moment,
    That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows
    Whereon the stars in secret influence comment;

    In the first quatrain, the speaker holds forth with the claim that he has been musing on the issue of how all growing things on earth seem to remain youthful and without blemish for such a short period of time.   

    The reader immediately comprehends that the speaker will again be using the fact that all living things age, decay, and die under time’s influence.  And, of course, because of this speaker’s purpose for creating his little dramas, he will be fashioning his discourse to persuade the young man to marry and produce pleasing offspring while the lad is still young.

    Interestingly, given the Shakespearean association with such, the speaker then employs a theater metaphor: “this huge stage presenteth nought but shows.”  He further comments that in those “shows” there exists a hidden motivator.    He employs the pun “stars” referring both to the players on the stage and astrological heavenly bodies that are thought to influence the people and things on earth.  

    His main issue is, however, that those influencing factors do remain brief because life itself is brief.  And ultimately, that brevity known all too well to human consciousness serves as a strong motivating factor in not putting off marriage and childrearing past the age of young adulthood.

    Second Quatrain:  Second “When” Clause

    When I perceive that men as plants increase,
    Cheered and check’d e’en by the self-same sky,
    Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,
    And wear their brave state out of memory;

    The second quatrain continues with its own “when” clause. The speaker informs his listener—the young man—that he has noticed that even the plant kingdom continues to propagate its succeeding generations, and both man and plant are welcomed, encouraged, likely urged on by the “self-same sky.”  The heavens look on humanity as well as on the plant kingdom with the same smiling luster. 

    As the speaker compares human beings to plants in their capability to reproduce and remarks that their progeny is welcomed and condoned by an approving “self-same sky,” he is directing the young man to consider the substance that runs through plants to compare that substance to the blood in the veins of the young man.  

    It is the youthful “sap” that is running through the veins of the plants, which corresponds to the youthful blood that is coursing through the veins of the human being in his prime; all living things are programmed to renew themselves through systems of reproduction.

    Third Quatrain:  “Then” Clause

    Then the conceit of this inconstant stay  
    Sets you most rich in youth before my sight,
    Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay,
    To change your day of youth to sullied night;

    The third quatrain contains the “then” clause which supplies the resulting conclusions following the “when” clauses of the first and second quatrains:  while life is uncertain for all living things, still here you are, an example of the best life has to offer, as I see in you a richness of pleasing qualities at their very prime.   

    Here is the young man at the height of his prime, at the very period of time when debilitating old age begins to argue with that youth, ultimately winning and transforming that youth from its treasured day to its frightful night. 

    The speaker is trying to be so forceful in his comparison/contrast that he will convince the young man to remedy the age-old problem of growing old.  He hopes to make the young fellow see that the here-and-now is the time at which nature begins to inflict the downward course from youth to old age.

    The Couplet:  Capping the Argument

      And, all in war with Time for love of you,
      As he takes from you, I engraft you new.

    The speaker, in concluding, reminds the young man that “Time” is struggling to diminish the lad, to impoverish his love, and to take away his pleasing manly qualities. However, if the young man will just follow the suggestions of the speaker, what Time takes away will be returned to him in the form of his new pleasing son.  

    The speaker has framed his suggestion in terms of “when” clauses that once again supply the argumentative command that the young man understand his downward journey to old age and act to restore the loss that will result if the young fellow dies without leaving his lovely qualities embodied in his offspring.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 16 “But wherefore do not you a mightier way”

    Shakespeare marriage sonnet 16 “But wherefore do not you a mightier way” likens the young man’s struggle with time to that of war.  Time is like a bloody tyrant engaging one on the battlefield of life.  

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 16 “But wherefore do not you a mightier way”

    The speaker of marriage sonnet 16 “But wherefore do not you a mightier way” from the classic Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence likens the struggle with Time to fighting in war against a bitter enemy.  Life is a battlefield, and the young man is at war with Time as if it were a bloody tyrant whom he has encountered on that battlefield.  

    The speaker continues to cajole and try to persuade this young man to marry and produce offspring.  Again, the speaker creates a metaphorical drama to try to show the lad the concerns that the older man entertains about the young man’s welfare.

    The speaker again has crafted a unique little drama of persuasion.  He arrays his lines in color and consequence as he argues, cajoles, and even begs the young man to give up his selfish ways for his own good as well as for that of future generations.    The speaker’s determination never flags, and his pride of having the ability to create his little effusions seems to grow with each additional installment.

    Sonnet 16 “But wherefore do not you a mightier way”

    But wherefore do not you a mightier way
    Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time?
    And fortify yourself in your decay
    With means more blessed than my barren rime?
    Now stand you on the top of happy hours,
    And many maiden gardens, yet unset,
    With virtuous wish would bear you living flowers
    Much liker than your painted counterfeit:
    So should the lines of life that life repair,
    Which this, Time’s pencil, or my pupil pen,
    Neither in inward worth nor outward fair,
    Can make you live yourself in eyes of men.
      To give away yourself keeps yourself still;
      And you must live, drawn by your own sweet skill.

    Original Text 

    Better Reading

    Commentary on Shakespeare Sonnet 16 “But wherefore do not you a mightier way”

    With “Time” portraying a “bloody tyrant,” the speaker in this little drama is likening the young man’s struggle to that of a fierce opponent whom he is meeting in an all-out war.

    First Quatrain:  The Enemy, Time

    But wherefore do not you a mightier way
    Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time?
    And fortify yourself in your decay
    With means more blessed than my barren rime?

    The speaker of Shakespeare sonnet 16 “But wherefore do not you a mightier way” again is reminding the young man that Time is the lad’s enemy; the speaker refers to Time as a “bloody tyrant.”  The speaker asks the young man why he does not find a more effective way to forestall this opponent than just seemingly relying upon the speaker/poet and his “barren rime.” 

    The speaker wants the young man to “make war upon this bloody tyrant”; he proclaims that the young man’s struggle with Time is as significant as any bloody battle between nations.  

    And the speaker is again urging the young man to do what is most feasible in this war with Time.  Of course, the reader knows well that the speaker’s solution is that this young man must marry and produce offspring.

    Second Quatrain:  A Young Fellow at His Prime

    Now stand you on the top of happy hours,
    And many maiden gardens, yet unset,
    With virtuous wish would bear you living flowers
    Much liker than your painted counterfeit:

    The speaker reminds the young man that the latter is at his prime—”on the top of happy hours”—and there must be many young ladies who would gladly marry him and bear his offspring.  The speaker relies on a colorful metaphor, likening the young women to “maiden gardens” who would “bear you living flowers.”  

    And the speaker asserts that these wholesome young women are more appropriate for a young man of his stature than the “painted counterfeit” that apparently pleases the young man as he fritters away his time and stamina.

    Third Quatrain:  Ensuring His Heritage

    So should the lines of life that life repair,
    Which this, Time’s pencil, or my pupil pen,
    Neither in inward worth nor outward fair,
    Can make you live yourself in eyes of men.

    The speaker then refers to “lines of life” or the lineage, which denotes the heritage the young man should be ensuring, according to the speaker.  Life repairs itself by encouraging a lineage, by prompting young eligible adults to marry and produce their heirs. 

    The speaker always remains very clever in choosing words that deliver meaning for both eventualities, such as the creating of heirs and creating of poetry.  The erudite speaker is creating a “line of life” in his poetry for the young man, and the speaker thus is trying to persuade the young man to follow his lead and do the same with his progeny. 

    The speaker then reminds the young man that no matter how much he concerns himself with folly, the lines of life cannot “make you live yourself in eyes of men.”  Only by producing an heir will the young man be guaranteed a lineage that others can see and know.

    The Couplet:  Maintaining His Own True Self

      To give away yourself keeps yourself still;
      And you must live, drawn by your own sweet skill.

    In the couplet, the speaker introduces another epigrammatic piece of philosophy that the reader has come to expect from this persuasive speaker.  The speaker asserts that only by giving up his selfish self can the young man actually keep his own true self.  And the young man must use his “sweet skill,” with which he is well endowed to live and produce his lineage.  

    This speaker continues to employ every angle of persuasion he can muster to bend the young man’s mind to his way of thinking.  Many of this speaker/poet’s dramas are created to focus on the lad’s own vanity and self-worth.  This speaker always seems particularly energized and motivated as he likens aspects of life to creating lines of verse.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 17 “Who will believe my verse in time to come”

    Sonnet 17 “Who will believe my verse in time to come” is the last sonnet in “The Marriage Sonnets” subsequence; the speaker makes a final plea to the young man, urging him to marry and produce offspring—this time for the sake of the speaker’s own veracity.

    Introduction with Text of Sonnet 17 “Who will believe my verse in time to come”

    The final sonnet in “The Marriage Sonnets” from the classic work Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence finds the speaker hoping to guard his own legacy.  If the young man will do as the speaker suggests, the speaker’s own veracity will be shielded. 

    The entire subsequence has presented a clever speaker employing a number of persuasive tactics to convince the young man that marrying and springing off children is in the young fellow’s best interest.

    The speaker has dramatized any number of reasons that the young man should marry, among them and front and center has been the ability to remain a near immortal through those pleasant children that the young man would engender, according to the speaker. 

    Sonnet 17 is the last marriage sonnet of “The Marriage Sonnet” subsequence; the speaker makes a final plea to the young man, urging him to marry produce offspring—this time for the sake of the speaker’s own veracity.

    Shakespeare Sonnet 17 “Who will believe my verse in time to come”

    Who will believe my verse in time to come
    If it were fill’d with your most high deserts?
    Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tomb
    Which hides your life and shows not half your parts.
    If I could write the beauty of your eyes And in fresh numbers number all your graces,  
    The age to come would say, ‘This poet lies;
    Such heavenly touches ne’er touch’d earthly faces.’
    So should my papers, yellow’d with their age,
    Be scorn’d, like old men of less truth than tongue,
    And your true rights be term’d a poet’s rage
    And stretched metre of an antique song:  
      But were some child of yours alive that time,
      You should live twice,—in it and in my rime.

    Original Text 

    Better Reading 

    Commentary on Shakespeare Sonnet 17 “Who will believe my verse in time to come”

    In the final sonnet from “The Marriage Sonnets” thematic group, the speaker is now showing concern for his own veracity.  Thus he is urging the young man to prove that the speaker is correct in his opinion regarding the happiness and status of the young fellow.

    First Quatrain:  Putting His Verse in Question

    Who will believe my verse in time to come
    If it were fill’d with your most high deserts?
    Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tomb
    Which hides your life and shows not half your parts.

    The speaker in sonnet 17 “Who will believe my verse in time to come” begins his persuasion of the same young gentleman again, as he asks the young man to think about his future and consider that the speaker’s words will sound exaggerated to the ears of future generations.   

    The speaker has lavished praise on the young man’s attributes, his “high deserts,” and the speaker now notes that such praise may sound unbelievable, like blatant flattery, especially coming as it does in sonnet form. 

    Yet the speaker insists that his sonnet is a mere “tomb,” which cannot, in fact, do justice to the young man’s gifts.  The poem likely covers in fog the young man’s life.  The sonnet can hardly express “half your parts.”  Thus the speaker queries, “Who will believe my verse in time to come . . . ?”   Again the speaker is seeking some convincing way to bring the young man to his way of thinking.  

    As he has filled his little dramas with much cajoling and colorful scenes likening time to a tyrant and life as a battlefield, the speaker again asserts his poetic prowess to offer a useful argument to get the young man to marry and produce pleasing offspring.

    Second Quatrain:  Filling His Verse with Praise for the Lad’s Beauty

    If I could write the beauty of your eyes And in fresh numbers number all your graces,  
    The age to come would say, ‘This poet lies;
    Such heavenly touches ne’er touch’d earthly faces.’

    The speaker, in the second quatrain, continues his musing on the uselessness of filling his sonnet with the young man’s “beauty” and “heavenly touches.”  The speaker claims that if he simply continues to fill his pieces with such things, the future generations will say that the speaker/sonneteer is a liar because no such amazing beauty has ever existed in a man.  

    The speaker and the young man both know how pleasant and wonderful the young fellow is, but because the young man’s qualities are rare, it will be unlikely that those reading about him in future will be able to accept the facts of the lad’s  endowment.   The speaker once again attempts to lead the young man to a conclusion about his duty to avoid such a fate.

    Even as the speaker seems to be inserting himself and his sonnets into the argument, he still very much places his emphasis on what the young man thinks.  Although the lad may be somewhat vain, the speaker knows that the young man possesses empathy as well as physical beauty.  

    The speaker again plays to the young man’s graceful inner qualities even as he stresses his outer physical attributes.  The speaker knows that at times he has appeared to exaggerate the young man’s pleasing qualities, and now he hopes to capitalize on the exaggeration.

    Third Quatrain:  Appealing to Vanity

    So should my papers, yellow’d with their age,
    Be scorn’d, like old men of less truth than tongue,
    And your true rights be term’d a poet’s rage
    And stretched metre of an antique song:  

    The speaker asserts to the young man that if his sonnetry is thought nothing but a bunch of lies, then the young man’s true attributes will be thought of as nothing more than the boasting of an old man, who was putting out only hot air without any truth.    The young man’s qualities will come to nothing but the rantings of crazed poet who stretched the truth to fill his poems with lie after lie about the young man’s beauty.

    The speaker is banking on the young fellow’s vain nature in following the speaker’s argument and that the lad will feel compelled to do anything the speaker suggests to avoid having his pleasing qualities assigned to the dustbin of history as the imagination of a mad sonneteer.

    The Couplet:  So His Sonnets Will Ring True

      But were some child of yours alive that time,
      You should live twice,—in it and in my rime.

    Finally, the couplet squarely addresses the same issue: that the young man should marry and produce children so that the lad will be doubly rendered immortal, both through his children and through the speaker’s verse.  If the young gentleman will only do his duty, follow the speaker’s advice to marry and produce children, the problem will never perplex them.

    Future generations will appreciate the fact that the young man was a pleasing, handsome man, and the speaker’s sonnet will contain the ring of truth that the speaker believes they possess. 

    Thus the speaker’s final installment becomes a double appeal that the young man marry and produce those lovely offspring and that he verify the speaker’s continued portrayal of the young man’s pleasing qualities.

  • Introduction to the Shakespeare 154-Sonnet Sequence

    Image: Shake-speares Sonnets Hank Whittemore’s Shakespeare Blog

    Introduction to the Shakespeare 154-Sonnet Sequence

    The Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence offers a study of the mind of the poet.   The first 17 have a speaker persuading a young man to marry and produce lovely offspring.  Sonnets 18–126 address issues relating to talent and art creation. The final 28 explore and lament an unhealthy romance.

    Commentaries on the Shakespeare 154-Sonnet Sequence

    My Shakespeare sonnet commentaries are being offered to assist beginning poetry readers and students in understanding and appreciating the Shakespeare sonnet sequence.  Because I argue alongside the Oxfordians regarding the identity of “William Shakespeare,” some of my commentaries on the sonnets include information related to the Shakespeare writer as Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford.  

    However, consideration of the poet’s biography remains only one small factor in understanding and appreciating his art, especially the sonnets.  The sonnets’ messages are what they are regardless of the biography of who wrote them.   The “Shakespeare” identity is not the only issue with which I take exception to traditional Shakespeare studies.  

    I do not agree with the traditional view that sonnets 18–126 focus on a “fair youth.” I will show that in most of that group of sonnets there is no person at all, much less a “fair youth” or young man.

    I assert instead that those sonnets put on display the theme of the poet’s relationships with his muse, with his own heart and mind, with his art—including his doubts and fears regarding his ability to maintain and perfect his writing abilities.

    The Sonnet Sequence

    Some online Shakespeare sonnet enthusiasts have divided the 154 sequence into two thematic categories:  “The Fair Youth Sonnets” (1–126) and “The Dark Lady Sonnets” (127–154).  Such a categorization remains problematic because there is a distinct change of subject matter from the first section 1-17 to the second 18–126.

    In the first section of sonnets 1–17, the speaker is clearly imploring a young man to marry and procreate; in the second section 18–126, the speaker remains highly contemplative as he muses upon his considerable talent.

    The only feature that the first two categories have in common would be a “fair youth”; however, it is a misinterpretation that assigns a “fair youth” to sonnets 18–126.  As I mentioned above, in most of that group of sonnets there is no person at all.

    In opposition to the two category theory, a number of scholars and critics of Elizabethan literary studies have categorized the Shakespeare 154-sonnet sequence into three thematic groups:

    1.  Marriage Sonnets: 1–17    (17 total)
    2.  Fair Youth Sonnets: 18–126 (109 total)
    3.  Dark Lady Sonnets: 127–154 (28 total)

    Sonnets 1–17:  The Marriage Sonnets

    The group labeled the “Marriage Sonnets” stars a speaker, attempting to persuade a young man to marry and produce beautiful children.  Oxfordians, who hold that the actual Shakespeare writer was Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford, suggest that the young man is probably Henry Wriothesley, the third Earl of Southhampton and that the speaker of sonnets 1–17 is striving to convince the young earl to marry Elizabeth de Vere, the eldest daughter of Edward de Vere.

    Sonnets 18–126:  The Fair Youth Sonnets

    By tradition, the “Faith Youth Sonnets” are interpreted as further entreaties to a young man.  However, there is no young man in these sonnets; there are no persons at all in that group of sonnets.  Even though sonnets 108 and 126 do address a “sweet boy” or “lovely boy,” they  remain problematic and are likely miscategorized.  

    The Category “Muse Sonnets” Replaces the “Fair Youth Sonnets”

    Instead of speaking directly to a young man, as the “Marriage Sonnets” quite obviously do, the speaker in sonnets 17–126 is musing on, examining, and exploring issues of writing, thinking, and making poetry.  In some of the sonnets, the speaker addresses his muse,  and in others, his talent, and in still others, he is speaking  directly to the sonnet itself. 

    The speaker in sonnet after sonnet is exploring the entire territory of his talent, his dedication to writing and the power of his heart and soul.  He even goes into battle with the bane of a writer’s existence—periods of low inspiration for creating. He also struggles with the ennui and dryness that the writing experience undergoes.

    The result of my understanding and interpretation of this “Fair Youth” category offers a very different line of thinking from the traditionally received position of this issue.  I have, therefore, relabeled the category the “Muse Sonnets”—replacing the traditional “Fair Youth Sonnets.”

    The motive for the continued labeling the bulk of the Shakespeare sonnets “Fair Youth” likely rests with the social justice movement in rehabilitation of the same-sex orientation.  Finding evidence of homosexuality in long respected writers and artists has become a cottage industry, especially for the statist-leaning, higher education system.

    While a number of academics have bloviated in the direction of finding of Shakespeare was “gay,” others have convincingly debunked the notion.  Interestingly, those who favor the gay Shakespeare use the “Fair Youth” sonnets as their main supporting evidence.

    Also interestingly, the debunking of the notion of same-sex orientation in “Shakespeare” would be much easier if those critics assumed the real “Shakespeare” to be Edward de Vere, whose biography is known and well documented, while that of the traditional “Shakespeare,” Gulielmus Shakspere of Stratford, remains rather thin and sketchy.

    Sonnets 127–154:  The Dark Lady Sonnets

    The “Dark Lady” sonnets offer an exploration of an adulterous relationship with a woman who possesses an unsavory character.  The term “dark” is describing the woman’s shady character flaws, rather than the shade or hue of her complexion.

    Six Problematic Sonnets: 108, 126, 99, 130, 153, 154

    Sonnets 108 and 126 offer a different kind of categorization issue.   Most of the “Muse Sonnets” are speaking to writing issues, wherein the speaker examines his talent, dedication, and other issues relating to his artist skills.  There are no other human beings in most of these muse sonnets.

    However, sonnets 108 and 126 do address a young man, calling him “sweet boy” and “lovely boy.” And then poem 126 is not technically a “sonnet.” It plays out in six rimed couplets, not the traditional sonnet form with three quatrains and one couplet.

    The possibility remains that sonnets 108 and 126 have helped cause the misnaming of this group of sonnets as the “Fair Youth Sonnets.”  Those poems should logically reside with the “Marriage Sonnets,” which do address a young man.  

    Sonnets 108 and 126 could also be responsible for some scholars categorizing the sonnets into two groups, instead of three—combining the “Marriage Sonnets” with the “Fair Youth Sonnets” and naming them the “Young Man Sonnets.”  

    However, the two category alternative remains flawed because the bulk of the “Fair Youth Sonnets” do not address a young man, nor do they address any person, except on occasion as the speaker addresses himself. 

    Sonnet 99 contains 15 lines, instead of the traditional sonnet form with 14 lines.  The first quatrain expands to a cinquain, converting its rime scheme from ABAB to ABABA.  The rest of the sonnet continues traditionally, following the rime, rhythm, and function of the traditional sonnet.

    Although sonnet 130 “My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun” is grouped with the “Dark Lady” subsequence, it seems to prove an anomaly because in many of the others in this group the lady does not merit such positive effusions as offered in the speaker’s claim that his “love” for her is rare.  

    The “Dark Lady” sonnets explore the negative results of unchecked lust, while the execution of sonnet 130 takes for its purpose the criticism of hyperbolic displays that idealize cosmetic beauty.  This speaker remains consistent in his striving for truth as well as his striving for beauty.

    The Two Final Sonnets

    Sonnets 153 and 154 are problematic also, at least to some extent.  Although they are categorized thematically with the “Dark Lady Sonnets,” they function a bit differently from most of the poems in that thematic group.  Sonnet 154 simply features a paraphrase of sonnet 153, dramatizing identical messaging—the complaint of unrequited love.  

    Those two final sonnets then decorate that complaint with the tinsel of mythological allusion.  The speaker alludes to the force of Cupid, the Roman god of love and the power of the goddess Diana.  

    The speaker thereby maintains a secure distance from his feelings.  He possibly hopes such distancing may liberate him from the oppression of his lust and then re-establish for him the harmonious balance of mind and heart.

    In the majority of the “Dark Lady Sonnets,” the speaker has continued to offer a monologue to the woman, making it clear that he intends for her to hear about that which he is complaining.  

    Finally, in the two concluding sonnets, the speaker is no longer addressing the dark lady.  He does mention her, but instead of speaking directly to her, he is declaiming about her.  He is employing this strategy to engage and demonstrate that he is withdrawing from the woman and her unsavory mannerisms.

    The conclusion of this sequence seems to be dramatizing the fact that the speaker has become disillusioned by and weary from his battle for this disagreeable woman’s love, affection, and respect.

    The speaker concludes that he is determined to fashion a high-principled, classic,  dramatic statement to put an end to this ill-omened relationship, with an unmistakeable  pronouncement that he is finished, it is over, he is through.

    Image: Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford-The Writer of the Shakespeare Canon

  • The “Shakespeare” Writer

    Image – Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford

    Continued research seems to be confirming the claim by the Oxfordians that Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford—not Gulielmus Shakspere of Stratford-upon-Avon as insisted by the Stratfordians—wrote the canon of plays and poems left by the pseudonymous “William Shakespeare.”

    Who Is the Authentic “Shakespeare” Writer”?

    The mystery regarding the true identity of the writer traditionally known as “William Shakespeare” actually began in Elizabethan England, during the period in which most of the likely candidates for the position lived and wrote. 

    The controversy [1] has continued, and today there are two main groups that argue the point: the Oxfordians contend that the most likely writer of the Shakespeare canon is Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford.   Arguing the other side are the Stratfordians, who maintain that Gulielmus Shakspere of Stratford-upon-Avon, the traditionally held choice, remains the actual writer.

    The first biographical work on “William Shakespeare” appeared in 1769.   It focuses on Gulielmus Shakspere, the man from Stratford-upon-Avon in Warwickshire, traditionally hailed as the Shakespeare writer.  

    That same year, Herbert Lawrence in his work titled, The Life and Adventures of Common Sense, suggests the idea that “William Shakespeare” was likely the nom de plume of some other writer but not the Stratford man. 

    In 1780 a clergyman/scholar in Warwickshire, James Wilmot, examined records near and surrounding Stratford-upon-Avon, searching for data on William Shakespeare and the Shakespeare works.  Wilmot found nothing about the writer or his works.

    After Wilmot lacked success in locating any information leading to the identity of the Stratford man as the Shakespeare writer, he floated the notion that Francis Bacon using “William Shakespeare” nom de plume had written those plays and sonnets.  Wilmot, to the detriment of historical literary research, mandated that all of his research materials be burned upon his death.

    In 1857, Delia Bacon, an American short story writer and Shakespeare enthusiast, offered the suggestion that perhaps a committee and not just one individual had composed the Shakespeare canon.  For her suggested committee, Delia Bacon chose Edmund Spencer, Sir Walter Ralegh, and Edward de Vere; she placed Francis Bacon in the committee as its chairman.

    Since those early suggestions that an individual other than the Stratford man wrote the Shakespeare canon, the controversy has raged on.   Currently, the Oxfordians, who continue to gather evidence for Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford, as the Shakespeare writer are putting forth the strongest, most convincing argument.

    Literary scholars and critics are increasingly coming to the conclusion that the man from Stratford, Gulielmus Shakspere, widely held as the traditional Shakespeare, is the least qualified candidate for playing that authorial rôle.  From that conclusion emerges the likelihood that Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford, is the best candidate for consideration as the Shakespeare writer. 

    Walt Whitman, one of America’s greatest poets, agrees with the Oxfordians, who argue that the 17th Earl of Oxford is the actual author of the works published under the nom de plume, “William Shakespeare”: 

    Conceiv’d out of the fullest heat and pulse of European feudalism — personifying in unparalleled ways the medieval aristocracy, its towering spirit of ruthless and gigantic caste, with its own peculiar air and arrogance (no mere imitation) — only one of the “wolfish earls” so plenteous in the plays themselves, or some born descendant and knower, might seem to be the true author of those amazing works — works in some respects greater than anything else in recorded literature.  [2]

    From other respected writers such as Henry James and Ralph Waldo Emerson to actors such as Charlie Chaplin and Sir Derek Jacobi to supreme court justices such as Harry A. Blackmun and John Paul Stevens, famous individuals have expressed doubt about the tradition identification of the Shakespeare writer [3].

    Why the Oxfordians Are Likely Correct

    A study of the background of each man—Gulielmus Shakspere of Stratford-upon-Avon and Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford—reveals evidence that  suggests that only Oxford possessed the ability to have produced the complex, historically based, geographically accurate  works of the Shakespeare writer.

    Gulielmus Shakspere—”Stratford”—was semi-literate; his parents, his wife, and his children were all semi-literate.  He likely remained uneducated beyond age 14.  No records have been found that demonstrate that he wrote anything more complex than a list of beneficiaries in his last will and testament.

    But if the Stratfordians are correct, this semi-literate individual who traveled no farther than to London (if that far) and left no early writings just suddenly commenced the composition of complex historical dramas and perfectly modulated sonnets during the time period Shakespeare scholars call “Shakespeare’s Lost Years.” 

    In contrast, Edward de Vere—”Oxford”—had received a first class education, had traveled widely throughout the world, and had actually been known to be a writer of plays and poetry.

    It remains as unlikely that the man Gulielmus Shakspere could have composed any of the works attributed to “William Shakespeare,” as he could have invented the horseless carriage or discovered the Pacific Ocean.  

    Life Sketch of Gulielmus Shakspere:  Birth Date in Doubt

    The biographical documents of “William Shakespeare” are virtually blank pages, upon which scholars, critics, and enthusiasts have written versions of a life, for example, no record exists of the birth date of “William Shakespeare,” even under the name Gulielmus Shakspere.  Biographers, therefore, can only speculate [4]:

    William Shakespeare was born in Stratford-upon-Avon, England, in April 1564. The exact date of his birth is not recorded, but it is most often celebrated around the world on 23 April. . . . Shakespeare also died on 23 April; in 1616, when he was 52 years of age.

    And the speculation continues; the following represents a further example that is typical of any attempt to state when “William Shakespeare” was born:

    No birth records exist, but an old church record indicates that a William Shakespeare was baptized at Holy Trinity Church in Stratford-upon-Avon on April 26, 1564. 

    From this, it is believed he was born on or near April 23, 1564, and this is the date scholars acknowledge as Shakespeare’s birthday. [5]

    As would-be biographers speculate about the birth date and other details regarding the Shakespeare writer, they employ the nom de plume “William Shakespeare” instead of Gulielmus Shakspere, the name that appears on the man’s baptismal record.

    Remaining a nebulous figure, “William Shakespeare” as Gulielmus Shakspere has no actual day of birth.  His speculated birth date is April 23, 1564, as is his death date, April 23, 1616.    The fabulous coincidence of any man dying on his unknown birth date further suggests the vulnerability of the claim that Stratford is the actual Shakespeare writer.

    The Education of “William Shakespeare”

    While uncertainty abounds regarding the birth date of “William Shakespeare,” equal uncertainty persists regarding his education.  Again, no records [6] have been found to designate the level of education to which Stratford might have risen.

    Supposition and guess-work suggest that Stratford might have attended King Edward VI Grammar School between the ages of seven and fourteen.  After age fourteen, his formal education was finished.  However, speculation regarding Stratford’s education has been offered as actual biographical history: 

    Stratford enjoyed a grammar school of good quality, and the education there was free, the schoolmaster’s salary being paid by the borough. 

    No lists of the pupils who were at the school in the 16th century have survived, but it would be absurd to suppose the bailiff of the town did not send his son there. 

    The boy’s education would consist mostly of Latin studies—learning to read, write, and speak the language fairly well and studying some of the Classical historians, moralists, and poets. 

    Shakespeare did not go on to the university, and indeed it is unlikely that the scholarly round of logic, rhetoric, and other studies then followed there would have interested him. (my emphasis on “no lists of the pupils”) [7]

    It may seem absurd to deem that the Shakespearean father would not have insisted that his son attend an illustrious grammar school funded by the state.  In such a school,  the boy would have been immersed in Latin studies and the classics.  However, such deeming does not record that boy’s name in documents that reveal that he did actually attend such an illustrious grammar school.

    Also, if the son of the town’s bailiff had received such an excellent education and was taught to read and write Latin, which he did “fairly well,” one has to remain perplexed that Gulielmus Shakspere remained unable to write his own name and spell it consistently throughout his lifetime (see below “The Spelling of the Stratford’s Name”).

    The Importance of Education

    Although no documentation exists to validate the education of Stratford and only speculations are extant that he attended King Edward VI Grammar School in Stratford-upon-Avon, the educational record [8] for Edward de Vere is extensive.  

    Edward de Vere became a ward of the Crown and was educated by the Royal Court of Wards.  He attended Queen’s College, Cambridge, and later underwent training at Gray’s Inn in the study of law. 

    De Vere was early on considered a wunderkind; his mentor and tutor Laurence Nowell asserted in 1563, as de Vere turned 13 years old,  that his “work for the Earl of Oxford cannot be much longer required.”    By the next year, at age 14, de Vere had been awarded a Cambridge degree. In 1566, at age 16, he earned a master of arts degree from the universities of Oxford and Cambridge.

    Stratfordians like to emphasize the fact that genius can overcome station in life, but such is true only to a point.  The late Shakespeare scholar Daniel Wright [9] has elucidated the issue of education vs natural genius:

    A writer’s genius can elevate his or her poetry or prose beyond the mundane (indeed, in Shakespeare’s case, it endows his achievement with a magnificence that is almost transcendent in its resplendence), but it cannot of itself impart to any writer—not even to Shakespeare—a knowledge of particular facts. 

    Genius may animate the hand, but it does not do that which is not its office—it does not, for it cannot, supply the material with which the hand performs its work. Some things even a genius simply must be taught.

    The issue of education presents one of the best supports for the fact that Stratford would not have had knowledge of the facts needed to have written the Shakespeare canon.  Professor Wright has pointed out that “knowledge of particular facts” cannot come without the input of experience to the mind, even to a genius. 

    No evidence exists that Stratford had traveled even to London—only 100 miles from Stratford-upon-Avon—much less that he could have traveled a great deal in Italy.  Such a set of facts is necessary for the writer, who wrote the plays, to have experienced.   Despite natural talent and genius, an intimate knowledge of the Italian landscape cannot simply appear within the mind of said genius.

    “The Lost Years”

    The concept of “Lost years” in the lives of any biographical target provides a delicious opportunity to the biographer, who then has the opportunity to fill in those lost years.    Because “there is no documentary evidence of his life during this period of time,” suitable scenarios may be invented that have little or no relationship to real events.  Thus the would-be biographer is allowed to opine as he wishes, such as the following: 

    ‘The Lost Years’ refers to the period of Shakespeare’s life between the baptism of his twins, Hamnet and Judith in 1585 and his apparent arrival on the London theatre scene in 1592.

    We do not know when or why William Shakespeare left Stratford-upon-Avon for London, or what he was doing before becoming a professional actor and dramatist in the capital. There are various traditions and stories about the so-called ‘lost years’. 

    There is no documentary evidence of his life during this period of time.  A type of mythology has developed around these mysterious years, and many people have their favourite version of the story. (my emphasis added)  [10]

    These speculating Shakespearean biographers not only do not know “when or why” Stratford left Stratford-upon-Avon for London, but they also do not even know that he actually did make that trip to London.   That Stratford became “a professional actor and dramatist in the capital” remain likely one part of the confusion that has fused aspects from the lives of Stratford and Oxford.

    Further Evidence Oxford Is the Real “Shakespeare”

    In addition to the issue of the vast differences between the Stratford man and the Oxford earl in education, further issues advocate that Oxford continues to remain the better candidate for the real “Shakespeare” than Stratford.

    The Spelling of the Stratford’s Name

    The many variations in the spelling of the name “Shakspere” offer further evidence for the claim the Stratford could not have authored the Shakespeare canon.  Stratford could barely write his own name, much less a complex literary canon.  Stratford’s signature [11] varied, as he affixed his name with six different spellings in four legal documents:  

    1. deposition of the lawsuit, Bellott v Mountjoy (1612) 
    2. deed for a house sold in Blackfriars, London (1613)
    3. the mortgage document for a house acquired in Blackfriars (1613)
    4. a 3-page Last Will and Testament (1616), which he signed at the bottom of each page.

    Interestingly, none of the Stratford man’s many variations on the spelling of his name includes the spelling “Shakespeare” (12).

    Thomas Regnier on “Our Ever-Living Poet”

    Thomas Regnier, Shakespeare scholar and prominent Oxfordian, delineates the top “18 Reasons Why Edward de Vere, Earl of Oxford, Was “Shakespeare.”   Regnier’s Reason 18 clarifies the use of the phrase, “Our ever-living poet,” thus demonstrating that it refers to Oxford instead of Stratford:

    Shakespeare’s Sonnets were first published in 1609. There are indications on the dedication page that the author was no longer living at that time. 

    First, the dedication is signed by the publisher, Thomas Thorpe, not by the author, suggesting that the author was not alive to write the dedication. 

    More significantly, the dedication refers to the author as “ever-living.” This is a phrase that was used metaphorically to refer to a person who was no longer alive, but who would live on through his works in our minds and hearts. 

    The Earl of Oxford was no longer living in 1609, while the man from Stratford, who is usually credited with writing the works of Shakespeare, would live on for another seven years. Stratfordian scholars have never been able to explain why the phrase “ever-living” would have been applied to a living person.  [13]

    The controversy at the heart of the Stratford vs Oxford debate will likely continue because of the simple nature of the past, which perpetually remains in a kind of fog.   An unfortunate encumbrance that may interfere with the legitimacy of the debate to ultimately find the truth is that it might come to depend on which side affords the debaters greater financial and prestigious awards.  

    Questions that could use an airing are:  Do university grants go more often to those researchers who contend that Stratford is the real “William Shakespeare”?  Does Oxfordianism label one a royalist and an elitist while Stratfordianism offers the veneer of humbleness and dedication to the “little man”?

    The Stigma Attached to Oxfordianism

    The Stratfordians have in the past attached a stigma to the Oxfordians, for example, in 1920, J. Thomas Looney identified Oxford as the Shakespeare writer and offering the claim that “William Shakespeare” was a  pseudonym (pen name or nom de plume.)   While Looney’s name is pronounced with a long ō, stigmatizing Stratfordians engaging in the rhetorical fallacy called name-calling revels in calling Looney “loony” (14).

    Also if one entertains any lingering doubt that the Stratfordians have an equal argument to wield against the Oxfordians, one might want to have a look at the comments offered on amazon.com after Looney’s book, “Shakespeare” Identified,” a centenary edition edited by James Warren.  

    John Crowe Ransom’s New Criticism movement of the middle 20th century placed emphasis on the text above biography of the writer:  

    The central issue that new critical thought brought to literary studies is the emphasis on the text itself, rather than on the biography of the writer or the historical and societal circumstances in which the writer composed. While these issues may be considered overall, the first consideration must be the text itself. [15]

    Nevertheless, each scholar, critic, commentarian, or reader has to decided for himself which of the known facts are important and in which direction they point.  It is also important to remember that biography is only one portion of the information needed to understand and appreciate any work of literary art.

    My Personal View of the Shakespeare Controversy

    I have written commentaries on the 154 sonnets in the Shakespeare canon, and I have posted them on this site; thus I feel it necessary to make known my thoughts on the controversy and how they likely impact issues that I focus on in my sonnet commentaries.

    After studying the research of Oxfordians such as the late Professor Daniel Wright, Thomas Regnier, and many others, as well as the many who remain traditional Stratford supporters, I conclude that the Oxfordians have the far better argument, and the evidence is clear that the Shakespeare writer is most likely, if not in fact, Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford.

    I agree that the name “William Shakespeare” is most likely the pen name (nom de plume) of the Earl of Oxford.  I find no reason that Gulielmus Shakspere should have adopted a pen name, when as it has been fairly established the he seldom put pen to paper.

    Edward de Vere, as a ranking nobleman, needed to hide his association with the lower classes who engaged in writing and putting on plays.  Thus he did have the need for employing the use of a nom de plume, especially as he began to publish.  It is quiet easy to see that de Vere’s choice of a pen name “William Shakespeare” could be confused with the Stratford man’s name “Gulielmus Shakspere.”

    Because I find most compelling that argument that “William Shakespeare” is the nom de plume of Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford, I choose to refer to the works attributed to “William Shakespeare” as the “Shakespeare works” or the “Shakespeare sonnets,” instead of  “Shakespeare’s works” or “Shakespeare’s sonnets.”

    I suggest that ownership shown by the apostrophe should be reserved for a person, not a nom de plume.  In cases such a “Mark Twain” and “Lewis Carroll,” I relent because of their proximity to our contemporary world, and their identities are not in question.  In my opinion, however, the sonnets are Edward de Vere’s sonnets, but because they are published and traditionally known as “Shakespeare” sonnets, I refer to them as such.

    Sources

    [1]  Editors. “Controversy Timeline, Part 1.” Shakespeare Authorship Roundtable.  Accessed June 6, 2021.

    [2]  Walt Whitman.  “What Lurks Behind Shakspere’s Historical Plays?November Boughs. bartleby.com: Great Books Online. Accessed December 2020.

    [3]  Editors.  “Past Doubters.”  The Shakespeare Authorship Coalition.  Accessed September 27, 2024.

    [4] Editors.  “When Was Shakespeare Born?”  Shakespeare Birthplace Trust.  Accessed December 2020.

    [5]  Editors. “William Shakespeare Biography.”  Biography.  Updated: Dec 10, 2020. Original: Apr 24, 2015.

    [6]  Editors. “The Education of William Shakespeare.” Literary Genius. Accessed December 2020.

    [7]  David Bevington. “William Shakespeare.”  Britannica. November 4, 2020.

    [8] Curators.  “Chronology of Edward de Vere.”  The de Vere Society.  Accessed December 2020.

    [9] Daniel L. Wright.  “The Education of The 17th Earl of Oxford Mirrored in the Shakespeare Canon.”  Shakespeare Oxford Fellowship. May 1, 2006

    [10]  Editors. “Shakespeares’ Lost Years.” Shakespeare Birthplace Trust.  Accessed December 2020.

    [11]  Amanda Mabillard. “Playing Fast and Loose with Shakespeare’s Name.”  shakespeare online. July 20,  2011.

    [12]  Bryan H. Wildenthal.  “Reflections on Spelling and the Authorship Question.”  Shakespeare Oxford Fellowship.  August 9, 2018.

    (13)  Thomas Regnier.  “Top 18 Reasons Why Edward de Vere, Earl of Oxford, Was “Shakespeare.” Shakespeare Oxford Fellowship. August 18, 2019.

    [14]  Eve Siebert.  “Spot the Looney.”  Skeptical Humanities.  Accessed September 27, 2024.

    [15]  Linda Sue Grimes.  “The Fugitive-Agrarian Movement in Poetry.”  Linda’s Literary Home.  Updated November 17, 2025.  

    Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford – “William Shakespeare”

    Commentaries on the Shakespeare Sonnets 1—154

    1. The Marriage Sonnets 1—17

    2. The Muse Sonnets 18—126
        Part 1:  18—73
        Part 2:  74—126

    3. The Dark Lady Sonnets 127—154