Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
William Shakespeare. 15641616161. Sonnets xvii
O NEVER say that I was false of heart, | |
Though absence seem’d my flame to qualify! | |
As easy might I from myself depart, | |
As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie: | |
That is my home of love; if I have ranged, | 5 |
Like him that travels I return again, | |
Just to the time, not with the time exchanged, | |
So that myself bring water for my stain. | |
Never believe, though in my nature reign’d | |
All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood, | 10 |
That it could so prepost’rously be stain’d, | |
To leave for nothing all thy sum of good: | |
For nothing this wide Universe I call, | |
Save thou, my Rose; in it thou art my all. |