#sonnet 110

[p-isforpoetry]

Sonnet 110 by William Shakespeare (read by Sir Patrick Stewart)

Alas! 'tis true, I have gone here and there, And made my self a motley to the view, Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear, Made old offences of affections new;

Most true it is, that I have looked on truth Askance and strangely; but, by all above, These blenches gave my heart another youth, And worse essays proved thee my best of love.

Now all is done, have 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 confined.

  Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best,   Even to thy pure and most most loving breast.

[p-isforpoetry]

"Sonnet 110" by William Shakespeare (read by Sir John Gielgud)

Alas! 'tis true, I have gone here and there, And made my self a motley to the view, Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear, Made old offences of affections new;

Most true it is, that I have looked on truth Askance and strangely; but, by all above, These blenches gave my heart another youth, And worse essays proved thee my best of love.

Now all is done, have 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 confined.

Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best, Even to thy pure and most most loving breast.

Source: William Shakespeare - Sonnets, 1996

[quothshakespeare-blog]

Sonnet 110

Alas! 'tis true, I have gone here and there, And made my self a motley to the view, Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear, Made old offences of affections new; Most true it is, that I have looked on truth Askance and strangely; but, by all above, These blenches gave my heart another youth, And worse essays proved thee my best of love. Now all is done, have 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 confined.   Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best,   Even to thy pure and most most loving breast.

[shakespeareandtheatre]

Sonnet 110

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; have 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.

[pensiveponderer]

Alas, ‘tis true I have gone here and there  And made myself a motley to the view,  Gored 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 proved thee my best of love.  Now all is done, have 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 confined.  Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best, Even to thy pure and most most loving breast. 

— Shakespeare’s Sonnet 110

[vomitatious]

Sonnet 110 by William Shakespeare.

Alas ’tis true, I have gone here and there, And made myself a motley to the view, Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear, Made old offenses of affections new. Most true it is that I have looked on truth Askance and strangely; but by all above, These blenches gave my heart another youth, And worse essays proved 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 confined.   Then give me welcome, next my heav'n the best,   Ev'n to thy pure and most most loving breast.

[alwaysiambic]

Sonnet Sunday!

Alas, 'tis true I have gone here and there  And made myself a motley to the view,  Gored 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 proved thee my best of love.  Now all is done, have 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 confined.  Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best, Even to thy pure and most most loving breast. 

-- Shakespeare's Sonnet 110