I love Shakespeare. He is a total master of the written word. This particular sonnet fascinates me. I’ve wondered who this love was–was this love deceitful and then forgiven? Was this love the epitome of all perfection and he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have such a love grace his life? Was the love’s constant heart/loyalty what made her beautiful?
What story do you think this sonnet tells?
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 blessèd shape we know.
In all external grace you have some part,
But you like none, none you, for constant heart.
Poetry Friday is over at Two Writing Teachers.
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