Poet William Shakespeare



Poems Comments

Sonnet Cxxxviii

When my love swears that she is made of truth
I do believe her, though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutor'd youth,
Unlearned in the world's false subtleties.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false speaking tongue:
On both sides thus is simple truth suppress'd.
But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
O, love's best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love loves not to have years told:
Therefore I lie with her and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we flatter'd be.



Poem topics: , , , ,

Rate this poem:

Add Sonnet Cxxxviii poem to your favorites

Add Poet William Shakespeare to your favorites

Popular Poets

Alfred Percival Graves (2 poems)
David Morton (3 poems)
Henry Alford (1 poems)
Anna Lætitia Barbauld (1 poems)
Charles Harpur (1 poems)
Edward Thomas (2 poems)
Brian Merriman (1 poems)
T. Sturge Moore (1 poems)
Henry Lawson (2 poems)
Queen Elizabeth I (2 poems)

Popular Poems

To The Pliocene Skull, by Bret Harte
'The Wonga Pigeon', by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Hymn Of Apollo, by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Elegy Vi. To A Lady, On The Language Of Birds, by William Shenstone
The Train, by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
The Duellist - Book I, by Charles Churchill
Mischief, by Jane Taylor
The Ballad Of Lucy Jordan, by Shel Silverstein
The Great Adventure Of Max Breuck: 56, by Amy Lowell
The Cross Roads, by Robert Southey