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sonnet56

by

William Shakespear

Sweet Love, renew thy force; be it not said
The edge should blunter be than appitie
Which but to-day by feeding is allayed,
To-morrow shap'ned in his former might.
So, love, be thou: although to-day thou fill
Thy hungary eyes even till they wink awith fullness
To-morrow see again, and do not kill
The spitit of love with perpetual dulness
let this sad int'rim like the ocean be
Which parts the shore whter two contracted new
Come dauly to the bank, that, when they see
Return of love, more blest my be the view;
Or call it winter, which, being full of care,
Makes summer's welcome thrice more wished, more rare.
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