• Shakespeare's Sonnet 79

  • Oct 27 2024
  • Durée: 22 min
  • Podcast

  • Résumé

  • Shakespeare is worried other poets are writing about his muse!


    Our story continues with a shock love triangle forming.


    Sonnet 79

    Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid,
    My verse alone had all thy gentle grace;
    But now my gracious numbers are decayed,
    And my sick Muse doth give an other place.
    I grant, sweet love, thy lovely argument
    Deserves the travail of a worthier pen;
    Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent
    He robs thee of, and pays it thee again.
    He lends thee virtue, and he stole that word
    From thy behaviour; beauty doth he give,
    And found it in thy cheek: he can afford
    No praise to thee, but what in thee doth live.
    Then thank him not for that which he doth say,
    Since what he owes thee, thou thyself dost pay.

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