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 proves 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 forgoing 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 mixed with seconds, knows no art
But mutual render, only me for thee.
Hence, thou suborned informer, a true soul
When most impeached stands least in thy control.

by William Shakespeare

Comments (1)

She speaks for so many of us- -regrets are the very devil and it is difficult to feel forgiven for things done. She pleads for God's strength here to be handiwork. Great poem going on my fav list.10