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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 blamed, if thou thy self deceivest
By wilful taste of what thy self 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.

by William Shakespeare

Comments (11)

It is a great grief to bear love's wrong but not the injury of hate and let not lovers become foes says Shakespeare as a significant message here!
I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief A great love poem penned by equally great poet. Thanks for sharing it here.
Absolute delight! Beautiful romantic piece with rendition of words to utmost justice. A lovely poem from the master.
The only one William Shakespeare! ! ! ! Thanks for sharing....
A Master stroke........Reading his poem is a joy and treat for heart and ears.
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