{"1": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2908", "width": "1964", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": ".^N^^\\n?0^\\n\\\\V ,A\\n^o.\\ns\\n.3^: ,n:^^\\nv\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0O- s\\n-T^^ V\\nH\\nbo^", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "bo\\nNT\\n1 -r-\\n^.x\\n1 o\\nbo^\\n.H -r^\\n^^p^rr^\\nS\\n0\u00c2\u00b0\\n-p\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0A\\no ,v x\\nCO\\nN\\n-^z\\nx*^ -V\\nbo^\\n.H -7*.\\nV\\n1 1*\\nCv\\nr\\nc^.\\n-^A v^\\n\\\\0\u00c2\u00b0\\ntr\\n,0 O^\\nS^\\n.A", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "A New Study of the\\nSonnets of Shakespeare\\nBy Parke Godwin\\nLoolce, what thy memotie cannot containe\\nCommit to these waste blanks, and thou shah finde\\nThe children nurst, delivered from thy braine.\\nTo take a new acquaintance of thy minde.\\nSonnet 77.\\nG. P. Putnam s Sons\\nNew York and London\\nUbe IRntcfterlJOcfier iDress\\n1900", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "35585\\nLJbrary of Conai es\u00c2\u00ab\\nTwo CUftES ReCflVED\\nAUG 171900\\nCopyright entry\\nSECOND COPY.\\nDeHverod t\u00c2\u00ab\\nORDER DIVISION,\\nS EP 25I9 QQ\\nCopyright, 1900\\nPARKE GODWIN\\nUbe IRnJcfterbocRer fPcesB, mew HJorfe", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "PREFACE.\\nX HE greater part of what is contained in\\nthis volume was originally prepared as an\\ninformal address to a small circle of friends\\nbut as it soon became evident that the subject\\ncould not be brought within the compass of\\nthat mode of communication, the author was\\ninduced to change the matter he had in hand\\ninto the more formal and deliberate shape of\\nan essay. It would have been better for him, in\\norder to avoid possible repetitions, oversights,\\nand peculiarities of diction not suited to an\\nelaborate treatise, if he had written the whole\\nwork over again, but he was warned against\\nthat labor by his advancing years, which might\\nadd to, instead of decreasing, the defects of his\\nperformance.\\nIn submitting the work as it is to the judg-\\nment of his readers, the author desires to direct\\ntheir attention particularly to two things\\nfirst, the Method of Investigation, which con-\\nsists in interpreting the sonnets from their\\nown words almost exclusively, and without re-\\ncurring to any supposed extraneous incidents", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0009.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "iv Preface\\nin the life of the great poet, of which we\\nknow absolutely nothing and, second, to the\\nmain result of the application of that method,\\na division of the sonnets, in which nearly-\\none half of them are found to relate to the\\npassional experiences of the poet under the\\ndifferent influences of a true and a false affec-\\ntion, while the other half (or a little more than\\nhalf) are found to relate to his poetic develop-\\nment, his aspirations, aims, struggles, disap-\\npointments, and final successes.\\nBy this means, the sonnets are lifted from a\\nlow level of petty concern, a cat-and-dog\\nfight, as Butler, a recent commentator, has\\nsaid, up to a high point of aesthetic interest\\nand significance. They now present the poet\\nduring an early formative period of his career,\\nwhen he was laying the foundation of his\\ncharacter, and of an artistic skill which has had\\nno parallel.\\nIt is more than possible that in presenting\\nthese conclusions I have made some mistakes\\nof detail, either as to the construction I have\\nput upon this sonnet or that, or as to the place\\nI have assigned to it in the general exposition\\nbut such errors are of minor importance\\nand the main question is, whether the principal\\nview at which I have arrived is the correct", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0010.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "Preface v\\nview or not for if it be the correct view, it\\namounts to a complete revolution in this branch\\nof Shakespearian literature. Let the public\\ndecide.\\nP. G.\\nNew York, June 3, 1900.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0011.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0012.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS\\nPAGE\\nIntroduction i\\nI A Brief History of the Sonnets 3\\nII Of Former Expositions of the Sonnets 31\\nPART FIRST\\nA New Study of the Sonnets .51\\nI A Central and Explanatory Sonnet 58\\nII The Independents or Solitaries 65\\nIII A Plea for Poetic or Creative Art 67\\nIV A Young Love-Time 89\\nV The Episode of the Dark Lady .130\\nVI The Poet s Communion with the Higher\\nMuse 166\\nPART SECOND\\nThe Original Sonnets as newly Arranged 227", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0013.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0014.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "INTRODUCTION.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0015.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0016.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER FIRST.\\nA BRIEF HISTORY OF THE SONNETS.\\nA LATE historian of English literature\\ntells us that at one time in the reign of\\nQueen Elizabeth there was an outbreak of\\nsonnet-writing, which for mass and beauty has\\nnever been paralleled.^ It was a form of verse\\nwhich, having long held sway in Italy, passed\\nthrough France into England, where it be-\\ncame a fashion. Introduced by Wyatt and\\nSurrey about the year 1550, it was taken up\\nby a great many others, and among them by\\nThomas Watson, whom Spenser calls the\\nnoblest swain that ever piped upon an oaten\\nquill, then by Spenser himself, the foremost\\npoet of his age, and finally by Sir Philip Sid-\\nney, who, as scholar and soldier, enjoyed a\\nuniversal popularity. In the course of time\\nnearly everybody who could write verses at all\\nwrote them in this style a dozen different col-\\nlections of them were published before 1596;\\nand it is estimated that more than two thousand\\nA History of English Literature, by George Saintsbury, p. 79.\\n3", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0017.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "4 A New Study of\\nspecimens were in circulation, if not always\\nprinted, by the end of the century.\\nAmong those touched by the common im-\\npulse, was a young versifier of Stratford-on-\\nAvon, named Shakespeare, who wrote more\\nthan 154 poems of the kind, all strictly con-\\nformed to the conventional manner, three\\nquatrains of alternate rhymes, ending in a\\ncouplet, and some of them to the conven-\\ntional spirit.\\nEvery person of culture who reads the Son-\\nnets nowadays is pleased to find in most of\\nthem fertility of thought, beauty of imagery,\\nand mellifluous versification,^ but having read\\nWith some exceptions Walter Savage Landor, in spite of his\\nhigh admiration of the poet, maintains that the Sonnets, while they\\nexhibit intensity and strength of thought, lack the imagination\\nwhich is his main characteristic {Works, vol. iv., p. 56). Else-\\nwhere, also, Landor (vol. iv., p. 12) remarks that not a single one\\nis very admirable, and few sink very low. They are hot and\\npothery with much condensation and delicacy, like a raspberry jam,\\nwithout cream, crust, or bread, to break its viscosity. Hallam\\nwished that the Sonnets had never been published, but that was on\\nmoral not aesthetic grounds. His words are There is weakness\\nand folly in all excessive misplaced affection, which is not re-\\ndeemed by those touches of nobler sentiment that abound in this\\nlong series of sonnets. But there are also faults of a merely external\\nnature. The obscurity is often such as only conjecture can pene-\\ntrate the strain of admiration and tenderness would be too\\nmonotonous were it less unpleasing and so many frigid conceits\\nare scattered around that we might almost fancy the poet to have\\nwritten without genuine emotion, did not a host of other passages\\nattest the contrary.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0018.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 5\\nthem he is at a loss to know precisely what they\\nare all about. Are they, he asks himself, a\\ncontinuous poem, or so many isolated poems\\nAre they autobiographical or dramatic or\\nare they poems at all in the proper sense, and\\nnot enigmas, concealing under a poetic garb\\nsome deep and occult philosophy Each of\\nthese questions has been answered affirma-\\ntively and negatively with equal zeal and\\ningenuity./ In the complete editions of Shake-\\nspeare s Works the editors have tried their\\nhands at solving the several difficulties, but\\nnot with much success and bulky volumes\\nhave been prepared to prove various theories\\nas to their design and significance, which carry\\nno conviction with them beyond the immediate\\ncircle of authorship.^\\nThese differences of opinion are largely due\\nto a certain obscurity in the Sonnets them-\\nselves they do not carry their meaning on\\ntheir face, like the Sonnets of Dante, Petrarch,\\nand other Italian writers which preceded them,\\nor like those of Spenser, Sidney, Drummond,\\nConstable, etc., which were contemporaneous,\\nor, again, like those of Bowles, Keats, Words-\\nworth, and Mr. and Mrs. Browning, which have\\nSee Massey s Shakespeare s Sonnets, Armitage Brown s Shake-\\npeare s Autobiographical Poems, 1838, and others, which, however,\\nI cite at second-hand.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0019.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "6 A New Study of\\ncome afterwards. They allude to situations\\nthat have now passed entirely out of memory\\nthey indulge in conceits and plays upon words\\nwhich rather perplex than help the understand-\\ning of them and often they admit locutions,\\nwhich, if not wholly obsolete, are yet very\\ndifferent from our accepted forms. Indeed, in\\nreading them, it sometimes happens that we\\ncome upon passages which at first seem clear\\nand intelligible, but which on closer scrutiny,\\nlike the face of a dumb man, get indefinite and\\nvague.\\nNot a little of this obscurity is to be ascribed\\nto the manner in which the Sonnets were in-\\ntroduced to the public, which was such as not\\nonly to render corruptions of the text inevi-\\ntable, but to suggest many misleading collateral\\nquestions. They were first alluded to inci-\\ndentally in 1598 by one Francis Meres, a Mas-\\nter of Arts in both Universities, and more or\\nless familiar with the literature and literary\\nmen of his time. A book of his called Pal-\\nladis Tamia, or Wifs Treasury, contained a\\ndiscourse on Our English Poets Compared\\nwith the Greek, Latin, and Italian Poets,\\nwherein he referred to Shakespeare many\\ntimes, and always in terms of eulogy. The\\nsweet, witty soul of Ovid, he says, lives in", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0020.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 7\\nmellifluous and honey-tongued Shakespeare.\\nWitness his Venus and Adonis, his Lucrece,\\nand his sugared sonnets among his private\\nfriends.\\nShakespeare among the English, he goes\\non to say, is excellent in both kinds for the\\nstage for comedy, witness his Gentlemen of\\nVerona, his Comedy of Errors, his Love s La-\\nbor s Lost, his Loves Labor s Won (supposed\\nby most critics to have been the original of\\nAll s Well that Ends Well), his Midstcmmer\\nNight s Dream,, and his Merchant of Venice\\nand for tragedy, his Richard II., his Richard\\nIII, his Henry IV., his King fohn, his Titus\\nAndronicus, and his Romeo and Juliet. This\\nlist, dividing Henry IV. into its two parts, men-\\ntions no less than thirteen plays in all, although\\nit does not include the Taming of the Shrew,\\nnor Pericles, commonly referred to this early\\ntime.\\nWhether the sugared sonnets spoken of\\nabove were the same as those we now have\\ncan not be known positively, but it is more\\nthan probable that they were. As they are\\ncited in proof of the poet s merit and distinc-\\ntion, along with such writings as the Midsum-\\nmer Night s Dream, the Merchant of Venice,\\nthe two Richards, and King John, it is not at", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0021.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "8 A New Study of\\nall likely that they would have been allowed\\nto perish.\\nBesides, there is a strong presumption as\\nto the identity of many of them, raised by a\\nfact which is none the less convincing because\\nit is indirect and casual. In the year 1599,\\nthe year after Meres s allusion, a book was\\npublished called The Passionate Pilgrim^ which\\ncontained several poems by Shakespeare and,\\namong the rest, two sonnets, now known as\\nNos. 138 and 144, the first of which (No. 138)\\nrefers to a love adventure in which the lovers\\nare on the most friendly, familiar, and even\\njocose terms, while the second (No. 144) shows\\nthat this relation has been changed into one\\nof suspicion and distrust. The poet is now\\nassured that he has been betrayed by his lady,\\nwhile he expresses a painful fear of the friend.\\nThese sonnets thus disclose an amatory ex-\\nperience, which must have had its beginning,\\nits intermediate incidents, and its result, and\\nare evidently parts of a more extended whole,\\nwhich whole we find in the Sonnets as they\\nhave come down to us. They describe, as we\\nshall see, the personal appearance and accom-\\nplishments of the lady, the gradual approaches\\nof the swain, their increasing intimacy, the rise\\nof disturbing suspicions, the poet s complete", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0022.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 9\\nillusion for a time, and then the final rupture\\nand separation of the parties. The inference,\\ntherefore, would seem to be inevitable that\\nthese sonnets, at least, were extant before 1599.\\nThe Sonnets, however, were not put forth\\nin book form until the year 1 609 eleven years\\nafter the mention of them by Meres, when\\nthe poet had acquired a greatly increased fame\\nas a playwright, and a widespread curiosity\\nobtained as to what else he miorht have written.\\nOf this curiosity the publishers took advantage,\\nand, looking up everything that purported to\\nbe his, gave it to the world. In the case of the\\nsonnets, the successful hunter was one Thomas\\nThorpe, who was not so much a printer or a\\npublisher as a literary purveyor, and already\\nresponsible for some twenty considerable vol-\\numes.\\nGetting possession in some way or another\\nof these sonnets, Mr. T. T. issued them, as a\\nquarto, with this peculiar title Shakespeare s\\nSonnets, never before imprinted. At London\\nby G. Eld. for T. T.^ and are to be sold by\\nWm. Apsley, 1609. A few copies read and\\nare to be sold by John Wright, dwelling at\\nChrist s Church Gate. In addition to the\\nThis T. T. is identified with Thomas Thorpe by an entry in the\\nStationers Register, under date of May 20th.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0023.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "lo A New Study of\\nsonnets, this volume contained also a complete\\npoem of considerable length and remarkable\\nbeauty, called The Lovers Complaint.\\nIf Thorpe had confined his enterprise to the\\nsimple issue of the poems he would have ren-\\ndered us an invaluable service but he appears\\nto have been ambitious on his own account\\nand so prefixed to his quarto this dedication\\nTO THE ONLIE BEGETTER OF.\\nTHESE INSVING SONNETS\\nMr- W. H. all. HAPPINESSE.\\nAND THAT ETERNITIE\\nPROMISED\\nBY\\nOVR-EVER-LIVING-POET\\nWISHETH\\nthe well-wishing,\\nadventvrer in\\nSETTING\\nFORTH\\nT. T.\\nThis bit of quaintness, in which Mr. Tommy\\nThorpe tried to show off his wit, has proved to\\nbe a perfect mare s nest to the critics, who\\nhave found no end of perplexity in its terms.\\nIn the first place, they ask, what did Tommy", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0024.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 1 1\\nmean by the phrase the onHe begetter\\nOrdinarily it would mean the author of the\\nsonnets, or the person by whom they were\\nwritten. But that has not satisfied the mystery-\\nmongers, some of whom contend that the\\nonlie begetter was the person by whom they\\nwere inspired, or to whom they were addressed,\\nwhich Is rather a forced use of the words, to\\nsay nothing of the fact that several persons\\nseem to be involved, female as well as male.\\nOthers contend that the onlie begetter was\\nthe person who procured them, or got them\\ntogether for the printer, an equally strange\\nlocution, just as it would be to say that the lad\\nor lass who furnishes us with strawberries in\\nthe summer is the begetter of strawberries.\\nThen, again, who was Mr. W. H., said\\nto have been this onlie begetter, and for\\nwhom T. T. wishes all happiness and the im-\\nmortality promised by the ever-living poet?\\nThe answers have been almost as many as the\\nwriters on the subject. It was, says one, the\\nEarl of Southampton, an early friend and\\npatron of the poet, the initials of whose family\\nname, Henry Wriothesley, are simply reversed\\nno, says another, it was the young Earl of\\nPembroke, who was also an intimate friend\\nof the bard not at all, exclaims a third, it was", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0025.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "12 A New Study of\\nWilliam Hart, a nephew of the poet, mentioned\\nin his will, and who probably purloined the\\ncopy or, more likely, adds a fourth, William\\nHathaway, his brother-in-law, who had access\\nto his papers or, finally, it was one William\\nHughes, plainly referred to in line 7, Sonnet 20,\\nalthough nobody has ever yet discovered who\\nWilliam Hughes might happen to have been.\\nI shall not discuss these various wrang-\\nlings further than to say that, in my guess,\\nwhich is as good as another s, Mr. Tommy\\nThorpe, having read a deal in the early son-\\nnets about begetting a son, and also in the\\nlater sonnets about one Mr. Will, a pun on\\nthe author s name, and desiring at the same\\ntime to be quaint and funny for himself, put\\nthe two together in order to tell us how the\\nexclusive author the onlie begetter was\\nno other than W. H. (Will Himself), or the\\nveritable Master William Shakespeare. He\\nresorted to this device, no doubt, in the hope\\nthereby of averting the wrath of the poet,\\nwhose wares he had surreptitiously acquired\\nand given to the public.\\nThorpe s dedication was really of no moment\\nin itself, or as a help to the interpretation of\\nthe poems. It was a little trick of his own,\\nto further his own purposes, perhaps to excite", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0026.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 13\\na curiosity which might promote the sale of\\nhis book. It was an habitual practice of pub-\\nlishers of the time to affix dedications to their\\nworks, confined to initial letters merely, such\\nas Mr. O. S., Mr. B. W., Mr. R. L., etc., and\\namong them Mr. W. H. was a good deal in\\nfavor. There are several books of this sort still\\nextant and notably a collection of pious poems\\nby one Southwell, a Jesuit, who wishes his\\npatron, Mr. W. H., a long life and the achieve-\\nment of all his desires.^\\nThorpe s Quarto, however, as it is our only-\\nauthority for the sonnets, is exceedingly im-\\nportant, and at once suggests several inquiries\\nthat ought to be determined before we proceed\\nto their interpretation. The first of these re-\\nlates to\\nI. Their Attthenticity and Correctness.\\nThat the poems were written by Shakespeare\\nadmits of no doubt. They were in circulation\\nprivately, according to Meres, for nearly twenty\\nyears during his lifetime, and much discussed\\namong his friends. They were published seven\\nyears before he died, and attracted a great deal\\nof attention because of his growing fame as a\\nSee Lee s Life of Shakespeare, p. 400.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0027.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "14 A New Study of\\nplaywright. Yet no one of his contemporaries,\\nso far as we can learn, ever questioned their\\norigin. Within twenty years after his decease,\\nwhile many of his friends were still alive, they\\nwere republished, and, as the writer of an in-\\ntroduction said, with the same purity that the\\nauthor when living avouched. It was reserved\\nfor the long-eared quidnuncs of the present\\ncentury, who invented the Baconian nonsense,\\nto raise even the thinnest mist of a doubt on\\nthe subject. One of these insists that they\\nwere written by any one of a half-dozen wits of\\nthe time, provided it was not Shakespeare and\\nanother has dug up for the authorship a masto-\\ndon as big as the latest dinosaurus of Wyo-\\nming.^ He maintains, in the face of the most\\npositive, various, and well-authenticated his-\\ntorical evidence, contemporary opinion, the\\nwitness of comrades and intimate friends,\\nthe records of books still extant, and many of\\nthe most convincing incidental confirmations,\\nthat the Sonnets were not written by Shake-\\nspeare, but were written to him as the patron\\nor friend of the poet that while Shakespeare\\nSee Hamlet s iVoh -Book, by William D. O Connor (Houghton,\\nMifflin Co., 1885).\\nTestimony of the Sonnets as to the Authorship of the Shake-\\nspearean Plays and Poems, by Jesse Johnson. G. P. Putnam s Sons,\\nNew York, 1899.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0028.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 15\\nmight have had something to do with some of\\nthe plays, their real author was a great\\npoet, a dreamy and transforming Genius,\\n[sic] who wrought in and for them that which\\nis imperishable, and so wrought although he\\nwas to have no part in their fame and per-\\nhaps but a small financial recompense and\\nthat it is the loves, griefs, fears, forebod-\\nings, and sorrows of the student and recluse,\\nthus circumstanced and confined, that the\\nSonnets portray. Wonderful, wonderful!\\nas Celia exclaims, and then again most\\nwonderful Let us only admit the exceed-\\ningly natural and simple supposition that the\\ngreatest poet of the ages, who lived for sixty-\\nfive or seventy years in London, during one\\nof the most inquisitive as well as enlightened\\nperiods of history, and whose works made an\\nepoch in the annals of literature, never re-\\nvealed himself in any other way to man,\\nwoman, or child that we know of, not even by\\nname, let us admit that small assumption, and\\nthe Sonnets are no longer mysterious or in-\\nexplicable. Their author may be the un-\\nparalleled Ignotus of all time, but they are as\\ntranslucent as Mother Goose.\\nBut while Shakespeare was the writer of the\\nJohnson, page 3, but see also p. 92.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0029.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "1 6 A New Study of\\nSonnets, he had nothing to do with their pub-\\nlication. The very form of the title-page,\\nShakespeare s Sonnets, is proof positive of this.\\nAll his other works the narrative poems and\\nthe early quartos are said to be by William\\nShakespeare, which is the customary and pre-\\nscriptive style of an author who ventures on\\nhis own account. Besides, the Quarto, as\\nprinted, abounds in typographical and other\\nerrors which might easily have escaped the\\neyes of a proof-reader, but not those of the\\nwriter himself. Thus, for example, in Sonnet\\n48, their is put for thy no less than four times,\\nmaking nonsense of the verse; Sonnet 126\\nwants the final couplet, which is indicated by\\nparentheses, thus an obvious expe-\\ndient of a printer, but not of an author again,\\nin Sonnet 144, the second line repeats the\\nclose of the first line, making bad sense as well\\nas bad measure, which could not have eluded\\nthe writer and No. 145 is not a Sonnet at\\nall, but a bit of octosyllabic doggerel, which\\na writer of Shakespeare s judgment would\\nnot have retained in the collection. As the\\npoems issued under his own auspices, like\\nthe Venus and Adonis and the Lttcrece, have\\nfew typographical faults, we have a right to\\nconclude that the Sonnets, which are full of", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0030.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 17\\nthem, could not have had the benefit of his\\nsupervision.\\n2. The Order of Arrangement.\\nThe order in which the Sonnets are printed\\nin the Quarto has been thought by many of great\\nimportance, though I do not myself see why the\\nsequence of the subject-matter should depend\\nupon the numerical sequence. A poet, writing\\nin a commonplace-book from day to day, might\\ntreat of one theme to-day and of another to-\\nmorrow, as his mood suggested, and yet num-\\nber his pieces consecutively, without implying\\nany connection between them. Indeed, whole\\nweeks might intervene in which he would be\\nabsorbed in different topics, without recurring\\nto any particular one. Shakespeare s Sonnets\\nread, on the first view, as if they had been\\nwritten in this piecemeal way. Ninety-nine\\nout of a hundred readers would say of them at\\nonce with Mr. Grant White, that as they stand\\nthey are distractingly and remedilessly con-\\nfused. None the less Professor Dowden in-\\nsists that they now stand as first written.\\nRepeated readings have convinced me, he\\nsays, that the sonnets stand in the right\\norder, sonnet connected with sonnet yet he\\nimmediately recognizes a grand break at No.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0031.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "1 8 A New Study of\\n126, and several smaller intermediate breaks\\nwhich he calls renvoi} The connections he\\nfinds between consecutive sonnets are often so\\nforced and remote that one can hardly think\\nthat he takes himself seriously. In fact, he\\ndoes distrust his own discernment, and freely\\nwarns the reader that he has perhaps, in some\\ninstances, fancied points of connection which\\nhave no real existence. But there is no per-\\nhaps about it in several instances he lugs\\nthem in together by the head and shoulders\\nor by main force. I cannot for the life of\\nme discern the affinities that appear to have\\nbeen patent to him between the i8th and 19th,\\nthe 19th and 20th, and so on up to the 33d or\\nbetween the 34th and 35th, and the 37th and\\n38th, and so on to the 45th or between the\\n49th and 50th, and so on up to the 56th or\\nbetween the 58th and 59th, and so on to the\\n65th and I might cite dozens of others, in\\nwhich it is as difficult to find any relativity as\\nit would be to find a needle in a haystack.\\nGroups of sonnets show themselves every,\\nwhere, as we shall afterwards see, but between\\nthem are gaps which, if not so deep as a well\\nnor so wide as a church door, are enough.\\nThe Sonnets of Willia?n Shakespeare. By Edward Dowden.\\nNew York, Appleton Co., 1887.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0032.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 19\\nIt is significant that in the earhest edition of\\nthe Sonnets after the Quarto that of 1640\\nno attention whatever is paid to the order\\nthe poems are distributed as the editor pleases,\\nand generally in clusters under particular titles\\nand that edition is followed by Gildon, Sewell,\\nLintot, and other editors of the eighteenth cen-\\ntury. More recently, Knight, one of the most\\nintelligent and judicious of judges, departs\\nwidely from the accepted order, whenever he\\nwishes to illustrate what he considers subjects\\nthat ought to be grouped, jumping ad Itbitzcm\\nfrom No. 18 to No. 90, from No. 22 to No. 1 10,\\nthen back again to No. 62, etc. In this free-\\ndom he is followed by Hudson, who arranges\\nthe poems in zigzags, going from No. 18 to\\nNo. 55, from No. 21 to No. 139, and from\\nNo. 126 to No. 22. It is needless to add that\\nall the more elaborate commentators, espe-\\ncially those who have written great books about\\nthem, feel themselves warranted in adapting\\nthe order of the poems to the exigencies of\\ntheir theories.\\nMy own notion is, that when Shakespeare\\nwrote the sonnets in his table books he num-\\nbered them in the order in which they were\\nwritten, without reference to their connections\\nof theme; and afterwards, when he copied them", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0033.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "20 A New Study of\\nor allowed them to be copied for circulation\\namong his friends, he adhered to the same des-\\nultory arrangement, with the exception perhaps\\nthat to one sonnet he affixed an especial num-\\nber for purposes of elucidation which I shall\\nhereafter point out.\\n3. The Date of Composition.\\nA more Important point, in fact a vital one\\nin this inquiry, is the time at which the son-\\nnets were composed. Were they all, or the\\nmost of them, in existence in 1597 when Meres\\nalludes to them as circulating from hand to\\nhand or were they still comparatively new\\nwhen they were put into book form by Thorpe\\nin 1609? Dowden,^ summing up the prevail-\\ning opinion about them, says that the general\\ncharacteristics of the style lead us to believe\\nthat some of the sonnets, as, for example, Nos.\\n1-17, belong to a period not later than Romeo\\nand Juliet (which would be, taking the ear-\\nliest edition of that play, about 1591, or, taking\\nthe later edition, about 1597), while others,\\nas Nos. 64-74, seem to echo the sadder tones\\nheard in Hamlet and Measii7^e for Measure\\n(which would be for both about 1602-3).^ I\\nSonnets, Introduction, p. xliv.\\n2 That is, after Much Ado, As You Like It, Twelfth Night, All j\\nWell, Othello, and Lear,", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0034.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 21\\ncan not think, he goes on to say, that any\\nof the sonnets are eadier than Daniel s Delia\\n(1592), which I beheve supphed Shakespeare\\nwith a model of this form of verse and\\nthough I can allege no strong evidence for the\\nopinion, I should not be disposed to place any\\nlater than 1605. Boas agrees in the main\\nwith this conclusion, putting the sonnets after\\nthe narrative poems, i. e., after 1594;^ and\\nGeorge Brandes, in a still more recent work,^\\nfixes the date about 1601, which would be\\nafter Shakespeare had written the thirteen\\nplays ascribed to him by Meres, and added to\\nthem Henry V., Julius Ccesar^ the first draft\\nof Hamlet^ and those unsurpassed comedies.\\nMuch Ado^ As You Like It, and Twelfth\\nNight. He was then in the thirty-seventh\\nyear of his age, of prosperous fortunes, of wide\\nrenown as an author, and held in the highest\\nesteem as a man by divers of worship. In\\nfact, he had been noted for several years already,\\nnot only for his facetious grace in writing,\\nDaniel most likely came after Shakespeare as a writer of\\nsonnets.\\nShakespeare and His Predecessors, by F. L. Boas. Charles\\nScribner s Sons, 1896.\\nWilliam Shakespeare A Critical Study, By George Brandes.\\nThe Macmillan Co., i8g8.\\nChettle s Kind-Harte s Dreame, 1592.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0035.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "22 A New Study of\\nbut for his civil and excellent demeanor, and\\nuprightness of dealing.\\nAll of these gentlemen shot wide of their\\nmark the Sonnets were of much earlier date\\nthan they suppose; and the proof of it is those\\ngeneral characteristics of style, on which Mr.\\nDowden relies.^\\n(i) While some of them are crude enough,\\nas Hudson says, to have been the handi-\\nwork of a smart schoolboy, they have all of\\nthem more or less marks of immaturity. The\\nmost conspicuous of these are the identical and\\nbad rhymes in which they abound, such as\\nmoment and comment, decrease and\\nincrease, open and broken, astrono-\\nmy and quality, key and survey, and a\\ngreat many others no less abominable, which a\\npractised writer could have easily avoided. I\\nmight add, too, as showing youthfulness and\\nwant of skill, that the thought is so often\\ngreatly in advance of the power to express it\\n,or, an ambition of aim not carried out by the\\nexecution; but why resort to these rather dispu-\\nThe only writer who has fixed upon an early date is Samuel\\nButler, whose work, printed after this chapter was written, assigns\\nthe writing of the sonnets to the period between 1585 and 1588,\\nbut, as he carries his pretensions so far as to name not only the\\nmonth but the part oi the month in which each sonnet was written,\\nhe gives a sort of ludicrousness and absurdity to the whole subject.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0036.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 23\\ntable indications of style, when so many of\\nthe sonnets themselves declare directly or by\\ninevitable inference that they are the work of an\\ninexperienced hand Take, for example. No.\\n16, one of a series of seventeen sonnets, in\\nwhich the writer describes his pen as a pupil-\\npen, or a pen not yet a master of its art or\\nNo. 25, which presents its author as in humble\\ncircumstances, and quite unknown to the pub-\\nlic or No. 29, in which he speaks of himself as\\nneither a favorite of fortune, nor of public opin-\\nion, but an outcast from both envying the\\nbetter positions, and desiderating the qualities\\nwhich he does not possess or No. 32, in which\\nhe depreciates his verse as rude and easily out-\\nstripped by that of other writers or Nos. 33 and\\n34, lamenting the disappointments of his career,\\nwhich once promised well but is now covered\\nover by clouds or No. 36, which complains\\nthat he is made tame or is disabled as a writer by\\nthe intense enmity of fortune or No. 38, which\\nconfesses that the efforts of his Muse are of\\nslight effect and not acceptable to the taste of\\nhis day or No. 69, which complains that his\\nmerely external accomplishments are appreci-\\nated, while his finer qualities are overlooked or\\ndisparaged or No. 72, which tells that the poet\\nis really ashamed of what he brings forth, and", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0037.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "24 A New Study of\\nthat it has nothing of excellence in it or No.\\n80, which claims for his lines no merit but the\\nsimple merit of sincerity of sentiment or No.\\n88, which deplores that he is full of faults and\\nweaknesses; and others, like the iioth, iiith,\\n1 1 7th, in which he accuses himself of having\\nwandered away from truth and beauty to court\\npopular favor by appeals to a low public senti-\\nment. Assuredly, such things could have been\\nsaid by Shakespeare of himself only in his cal-\\nlow days when he was still struggling with his\\nyouthful limitations, and before he had attained\\na full consciousness of his higher powers.\\n(2) Then again, in addition to these thirty\\nsonnets are others, which seem to form series,\\nlike Nos. yS, 79, 80, 82, 83, 84, 85, in some\\nof which he admits the superiority of his rivals j\\nand despairs of reaching their heights of excel-\\nlence, and proposes to withdraw from the field\\nwhile in others he complains that certain rivals\\nhad imitated his manner to such an extent as\\nto deprive him of the credit of originality, and\\nthereby rendered him commonplace. Either\\nof these positions, as I think, his concessions\\nof his own inferiority, or his complaints of a\\ndamaging imitation, could have been assumed\\nonly at the very outset of his career, and be-\\nfore he had achieved any of those wonderful", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0038.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 25\\nworks which placed him at the head of his kind,\\nand beyond haiHng distance of competition.\\nAs the author of the earlier poems and some of\\nthe earlier plays he might have been followed\\nand even surpassed by a few of his contempo-\\nraries, like Greene, Marlowe, Peele, and Lodge,\\nbut as the author of his greater comedies,\\ntragedies, and historical pieces he stood alone.\\nOne thing at least is quite certain, that these\\nsonnets in which he deplores his own obscurity,\\ndeprecates his poverty, brands his faults and\\nerrors with severe reproaches, and tells of his\\nstruggles with the Muse, must have been writ-\\nten before the Venus and Adonis and the\\nLucrece appeared in 1593-4, because when\\nthose poems were made public they were re-\\nceived, as a late biographer says, with un-\\nqualified enthusiasm. The critics, he adds,\\nvied with each other in the exuberance of\\ntheir eulogies, in which they proclaimed that the\\nfortunate author had gained a permanent place\\non the summit of Parnassus. Poets them-\\nselves distinguished, like Draper, Gierke,\\nWeever, Garew, and, best of all, Spenser,\\ncall him the honey tongue, the unmatch-\\nable, the modern Gatullus whose Muse\\nis full of high thought s invention.\\nLee s Life of Shakespeare, pp. 78, 79.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0039.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "26 A New Study of\\n(3) Then again, as we shall see more fully\\nhereafter, are sonnets (more or less connected)\\nin which the poet weeps the estrangement of\\nhis higher ideals (88-93) confesses his own\\ndeparture from the better methods of art, as a\\ncause (100-103), resolves to return to rightful\\nways (107-112, 117, 118), and finally rejoices\\nin the conquest of himself, and the conse-\\nquent acquisition of a mastery which assures\\nhim an immortal triumph (123-125, 55). In\\nall this one discerns the unmistakable signs\\nof an incomplete development.\\nTaking, then, these several considerations to-\\ngether, the youthful tone of the sonnets, the\\nrepeated confessions of poverty and obscurity\\nby the poet, his complaints of the rivalry of\\nothers, and the marked similarities in many\\nrespects between the sonnets and the earlier\\npoems and plays, the conclusion becomes\\ninevitable as to the time of their compo-\\nsition.\\nWe cannot fix the precise year in which they\\nwere written, but we may assign the period\\nwithin which they were written. It covered\\nthe time between 1582, about the date of his\\nmarriage, and 1592, when he had become more\\nor less famous both as an actor and a play-\\nwright. A few of them may have been", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0040.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 27\\nexecuted after 1 592, especially those of personal\\ncompliment addressed to friends and those in\\nwhich he boasts of his poetic triumphs, but the\\ngreat body of them must have belonged to\\nthe time I have designated.\\nIf it be objected to this view that, in several\\nof the sonnets, the poet speaks of himself in\\nterms which imply age, as when he writes\\nmy days are past the best (138), or, as\\ncrushed and o erdone by time s injurious\\nhand (63), or, as bated and chopped with\\ntanned antiquity (62), or, as being at that\\ntime of life when yellow leaves, or none, do\\nhang upon the boughs (j2 etc., I answer,\\nfirst, that many of these expressions are to be\\ntaken, as we shall see, in an aesthetic and not\\nphysical sense and, secondly, as Grant White\\nsuggests, that owing to the shorter span of\\nhuman life in those days, a man was regarded\\nas old before he had reached the thirties.\\nShakespeare himself, in Sonnet 2, describes a\\nperson who had attained to forty winters only,\\nas having deep trenches, (wrinkles) in his\\nface, sunken eyes, and of a coldness of blood\\nthat needed to be warmed. It was, moreover,\\na conventional practice of the poets then to\\nexaggerate their years and deplore their se-\\nnectitude and decay, as may be seen in Daniel,", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0041.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "28 A New Study of\\nDrayton, Barnfield, and others who were not\\nyet at middle age. Even in our own times, we\\nknow that Byron, who died at thirty-six, pro-\\nclaimed a little while before that he was in\\nthe sere and yellow leaf.\\nTo this brief history of the Sonnets it is\\nperhaps well to add that they never acquired\\nthe popularity of Shakespeare s plays or of his\\nother poems for while the Venus and Adonis\\nand the Lucrece passed rapidly through sev-\\neral editions, the Sonnets were not republished\\nuntil 1640, thirty-one years after the Quarto\\nwas published, and twenty-four years after the\\npoet s death. They then appeared in a med-\\nley with other poems, and in groups dis-\\ntributed seemingly at random, as Hudson\\nsays, and under headings which had no more\\nto do with the poems than the marginal notes\\nin our old Bibles have to do with the text as\\nthe Higher Criticism construes it now. It\\nwas entitled Poems (sometimes Poemes^ by\\nWill Shakespeare, Gent. It omitted seven of\\nthe best sonnets, gave two, 138 and 144, in\\nthe corrupt form of The Passionate Pilgrim,\\nand though a few misprints are corrected others\\nare introduced. In his preface the publisher\\navers that the poems appear in the same\\npurity, as the author when living announced,", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0042.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 29\\nmost likely an invention of the publisher to\\ncommend his wares.\\nDuring the seventeenth century, the public\\nseems to have been satisfied with the Folios\\nof 1623, 1632, 1663, 1664, and of 1685 (which\\nincluded seven spurious plays attributed to\\nShakespeare, but excluded the poems as if\\nthey were not worthy of the association). It\\nwas not until the eighteenth century (about\\n1709), when Rowe printed the first critical edi-\\ntion of the plays (followed by a reprint in\\n1 714), that Lintot put forward an edition of\\nthe poems, which was followed subsequently\\nby Gildon (1710), Sewell (1725), Pope (1725),\\nand Steevens (1728). The most of these,\\nsingular to say, took Benson s farrago for\\ntheir model. Steevens, indeed, in an early\\nedition of Johnson s Shakespeare, reprinted\\nthe poems but excluded the sonnets, because,\\nas he said, the strongest act of Parliament\\nthat could be framed would fail to compel\\nreaders into their service. The Rev. Edward\\nMalone, in 1780, seems to have been the first\\neditor to approach an estimation of the true\\nvalue of the Sonnets. Even he was exceed-\\ningly cautious in his commendations, but he is\\nentitled to the praise of having restored the\\nSonnets to public admiration 170 years after", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0043.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "30 The Sonnets of Shakespeare\\ntheir first appearance. Since Malone, a great\\nmany new and elegant editions have appeared,\\namong which an edition by Palgrave, and an\\nedition by Dowden, are by far the best, al-\\nthough the latter is disfigured by the eccentric\\ninterpretations in which the editor indulges.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0044.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER SECOND.\\nOF FORMER EXPOSITIONS OF THE SONNETS.\\nTHE historian of English literature already\\ncited says that no vainer fancies this\\nside of madness ever entered the human mind,\\nthan certain expositions of the Sonnets of\\nShakespeare. This is not an exaggerated\\njudgment, and the number of these fancies is\\nno less remarkable than their absurdity.^\\nThese varied views might be neglected\\nA History cf Etiglish Literature, by George Saintsbury, vol.\\nii., p. i8.\\nThey are so numerous, indeed, that Professor Dowden, in his\\nadmirable essay {Shakespeare His Mind atid Art, by Edward\\nDowden, p. 350. Harper and Brothers, New York, 1881), has been\\nable to distribute them into classes, as a naturalist does his weeds\\nand insects. The principal kinds, he says, are as follows (i) The\\nSonnets are poems of an imaginary friendship and love (held by Dyce,\\nDelius, H. Morley, etc.). (2) They are partly imaginary and partly\\nautobiographical (held by C. Knight, H. von Friesen, R. Simpson,\\netc.). (3) They form a general allegory (held by Barnstorff, Heraud,\\nKarl Karpf, and, I may add. Gen. Hitchcock, and E. J. Dunning).\\n(4) They are exclusively autobiographic (held by Bright, Boaden,\\nA. Brown, and H. Brown). (5) They are partly addressed to the\\nEarl of Southampton, and partly written in his name to Elizabeth\\nVernon (held by Mrs. Jameson and Gerald Massey), and (6) They\\nwere partly written for the Earl of Pembroke, to be sent by him to\\nthe dark woman. Lady Rich.\\n31", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0045.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "32 A New Study of\\naltogether, but for the fact that two or three of\\nthem are so diametrically opposed to what I\\nconsider the true view that they compel a\\nmoment s consideration.\\n(i) The first of these regards the Sonnets\\nas merely miscellaneous and discursive exercises\\nof fancy, having no connection one with an-\\nother and no collective significance. It was\\nfirst suggested, I think, by Halliwell-Phillipps,\\nbut it has since been more elaborately argued\\nby the German Professor Delius. If it be the\\nright view, it vacates our inquiry from the out-\\nset, and renders useless, as Dowden says, any\\nattempt to shape a story, reconcile discrepan-\\ncies, ascertain a chronology, or identify per-\\nsons. But assuredly no one can read the\\nSonnets, even in a cursory way, without per-\\nceiving that they form many connected groups,\\ngroups of twos, as Nos. 34, Nos. 64,\\n65, and Nos. 78, 79 groups also of threes, as\\nNos. 40-42, Nos. 97-99, and Nos. 23-25\\ngroups, again, of fours, as Nos. 71-74 and Nos.\\n100-103 then, once more, a group of sixes, as\\nNos. 88-93 one group of sevens, as Nos.\\n80-86 and finally a group of seventeen, in\\nwhat are called the marriage sonnets (1-17).\\nNow as each of these groups has something\\nto say for itself, some story to tell, it seems", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0046.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 33\\nimpossible to treat the sonnets as merely-\\nseparate and individual ejaculations.\\nAkin to this view is Mr. Sidney Lee s in his\\nrecent Life of Shakespeare^ which contends\\nthat the Sonnets, with the exception of thirty\\naddressed to the Earl of Southampton, are\\nno more than literary meditations on the in-\\nfirmities incident to human nature, under-\\ntaken after the cue had been given by other\\nsonneteers. In other words, the poet had no\\npersonal convictions or feelings to express, but\\nwrote imitatively in the manner of the times, a\\nlittle better than others now and then, yet on\\nthe whole as a follower if not a plagiarist.\\nBut on this hypothesis what are we to make of\\nthe fact that of the 154 sonnets at least 130\\nare written in the personal tense I, me,\\nand mine are of constant recurrence; in some\\ncases they recur five or six times, and gener-\\nally animated by great fervor and vehemence\\nA Life of William Shakespeare, by Sidney Lee. New York,\\nthe Macmillan Co., 1898. This book has a good deal of pleasant nar-\\nrative in it, the result of careful research, but is no less marked by\\nwild speculation, arrogant dogmatism, and, in what relates to the\\npunning sonnets, repulsive coarseness. Its general effect is to de-\\ngrade Shakespeare veiy much in the estimation of the reader, as he\\nis made to appear not only an unscrupulous plagiarist, but a sordid\\nhanger-on of the great, and a gross-minded sensualist. Mr. Lee\\nalso pronounces some of the sonnets as positively inane, an opin-\\nion that may be taken as a measure of his critical capacity.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0047.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "34 A New Study of\\nof sentiment. Professor Dowden has said of\\nthe plays, that there is hardly anywhere a pas-\\nsage to be found which is hard, cold-blooded,\\nand indifferent, and the same may be said of\\nthe poems. They vibrate with human emo-\\ntion, and reveal the man quite as much as they\\ndo the poet. That they are in manner and tone\\nlike other sonnets of the times, may be true,\\nbut they are also, in many respects, wholly\\nunlike. Henry Brown and Professor Minto\\nwere so strongly impressed by the difference,\\nas to argue that they were written on purpose\\nto ridicule the prevailing modes. In Sonnets\\nNo. 130 and No. 21, for instance, Shakespeare\\nsays expressly that his Muse is not like the\\nMuse of other poets, who are moved to write\\nby artificial inspiration he writes what he,\\nfeels, and not for mere show or pretence. He\\nalso says elsewhere that in order to meet the\\nrivalry of other poets, and especially of one\\nbetter spirit (Nos. 78-86), he avoided all\\ndecoration or false painting, trusting solely to\\nthe instincts of his genius.\\nMr. Lee apparently does not see that the\\npoets of the time, Italian, French, and English,\\nwere children of the later Renaissance, who\\nbreathed the air of that reaction against the\\nsuperstitions of the Middle Ages. That many", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0048.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 35\\nof them resembled others was inevitable.\\nWhat we are to look for in determining their\\nrespective merits is their originality in hand-\\nHng a common theme. It is not the finding\\nof new things, as Lowell finely observes, but\\nthe making of something out of them after\\nthey are found, that produces literature of\\nconsequence. Wherever Geoffrey Chaucer\\nfound anything directed to Geoffrey Chaucer,\\nhe took it and made the most of it. It was\\nnot the subject treated, but himself that was\\nthe new thing. Cela tu appartient de droit,\\nMoliere is reported to have said when ac-\\ncused of plagiarism. Chaucer pays also that\\nusurious interest, remarks Coleridge, which\\nGenius always pays in borrowing. So with\\nShakespeare he found the sc nnet, but he filled\\nit with the young Shakespeare. You read\\nsonnets of others, and you say, How pretty\\nhow like Petrarch, or the fine French singers\\nbut you read his, and while you gather the\\nsweetness you breathe short with expectation.\\n(2) A second theory of the Sonnets maintains\\nthat they are allegories, which conceal under\\ncommon, every-day expressions a profound\\nsesthetical or spiritual philosophy. It has had\\nits advocates in Germany, but its most labored\\ndefender was the late General Hitchcock of", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0049.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "36 A New Study of\\nthis country.^ He is ingenious and earnest,\\nbut does not carry his readers with him. One\\nquestions all along how a series of poems\\nwhich do not even recognize the existence of\\na Supreme Being should yet be a storehouse\\nof dogmas about the Holy Three in One,\\nthe divine Logos, and the Wonderful Rock.\\nHitchcock admits that he is mystical, and hard\\nto be understood, and as far as you do under-\\nstand him you do not see any difference be-\\ntween his religious tenets and those universally\\naccepted by other teachers.\\nA more pretentious attempt at allegorizing\\nthe Sonnets is called the Genesis of Shake-\\nspeare s ArtJ^ It assumes that the Sonnets\\ncomprise but a single subject, the develop-\\nment of Shakespeare s genius from its earliest\\ncroppings-out to its final mastery, but the\\neffort is to me not at all satisfactory while\\nthe author is compelled to resort to a great\\nmany subtle tours de force to connect sonnet\\nwith sonnet, he lands you, in the end, in a\\nveritable maze. You read, and read, and\\nread, and when you finish you have no clearer\\nRe?narks on the Sonnets of Shakespeare, showing that they belong\\nto the Hermetic class of writings, and explaining their actual mean-\\ning and purpose. Isaac Miller, New York, 1867.\\nThe Genesis of Shakespeare^ s Art A Study of his Sonnets and\\nPoems, by Edwin James Dunning. Boston, 1897.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0050.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare zi\\nnotion of the genesis of Shakespeare s art than\\nyou had at the beginning.\\nIn fact, all the efforts that I have seen to\\ndetect a profound religious or aesthetic philos-\\nophy under what is else quite simple end in\\ntexts more obscure than the original text, and\\nreading it is like walking out of a room partly\\nlighted into a cellar completely dark. Even\\nin poems professedly allegorical, like the Faerie\\nQueene^ we soon lose sight of the story to at-\\ntend to the verse. The allegory, at best, is a\\nspurious sort of literature. It replaces the\\ngenuine pleasure of poetry, which is simple,\\nsensuous, and passionate, by the kind of pleas-\\nure one finds in a game of chess, that of inge-\\nnuity, not of imagination. In the age of the\\nFaerie Queene there was a prevailing fondness\\nfor it, and Shakespeare tried his hand upon it\\nbriefly in the vision of Cymbeline, in the feast\\nand dance of The Tempest^ and perhaps he\\nverged towards it in what are called the mar-\\nriage sonnets, but his genius was essentially dra-\\nmatic he looked at life and its issues in their\\nreality, and even his fairy world adheres to the\\nsubstantial and human. If his thought is often\\nso very deep that you have to dig far down to\\nget at its roots, or if he sometimes pursues a\\nfigure through the air until there is nothing", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0051.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "38 A New Study of\\nleft but the figure, he commonly strikes In the\\nopen, and he strikes so hard at times that his\\nblow gives back a ring of mystic bells, or a\\nmutter of distant thunder. He plays the ma-\\ngician, no doubt like Prospero, he deals with\\ncharms and enchantments, he controls the ele-\\nments, he calls up the mutinous winds, and\\nsets roaring war between the green sea and\\nthe azured vault but none the less his fury\\nis always the minister of his reason\\nfantastic as his scene may be, you know It\\nis fantastic and when the work is done, he\\ndeliberately takes off his robes, and tells you\\nthe revels now are ended, and these actors,\\nas I foretold you, are melted into thin air.\\n(3) The theory of the Sonnets, however,\\nwhich seems to me the most misleading and\\npernicious, Is the most recent and widely\\nreceived, that which treats them as an ex-\\npression of the poet s unbounded love and\\nadmiration for a young friend. For many years\\nafter they were published, as Brandes remarks,^\\nall the commentators regarded them as ad-\\ndressed to a woman a plausible inference\\nbecause so much of the sonnet-writing of the\\ntime was taken up with amatory sentiment. As\\nWilliaf i Shakespeare A Critical Study, by George Brandes.\\nvol. i., p. 314. The Macmillan Co., New York, 1897.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0052.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 39\\nWarton says In Italy the sonnet treated\\nof the anxieties of love with pathos and\\npropriety, and in England, he adds, they\\nrather tortured the passion with their com-\\nparisons. Spenser, Sidney, Constable, Daniel,\\nDrayton, Barnes, Barnfield, and others were\\nfull of devotion to the sex and it seemed,\\ntherefore, altogether likely that Shakespeare,\\nwho in his plays became so fertile a creator of\\nfemale types, should follow in the same path.\\nIt was not till 1 780, a century and a half after\\nhis death, that Malone and his friends began\\nto assert that more than a hundred of them\\nwere addressed to a man. Even then the\\nassertion did not command universal acquies-\\ncence. As late as 1797 George Chalmers\\nstrenuously argued that they were written to, or\\nmeant for, Queen Elizabeth and not until\\nabout the beginning of the present century\\ndid a decided change of opinion take place.\\nIt was then generally conceded that at least\\n126 of the Sonnets had a masculine friend of\\nthe poet s as their object. But who was he\\nIn 181 7 it was suggested by Drake,^ on the\\nstrength of the poet s friendship for the Earl of\\nSouthampton, to whom the Venus and Adonis\\nShakespeare and his Times, by Nathan Drake, M.D. London,\\n1817.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0053.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "40 A New Study of\\nand the Lucrece were dedicated, that he was the\\nchief if not sole inspirer of the poet. This hy-\\npothesis was sustained by Gervinus and Kreys-\\nsig with more or less zeal. In 1832, however,\\nBoaden, biographer of Kemble and Siddons, ad-\\nvanced strong objections to it, and put forth the\\nEarl of Pembroke as the man in the mask\\nhe was approved by Mr. James Heywood\\nBright, who claimed to have discovered the er-\\nror as early as 1819.^ Since then a furious con-\\ntroversy has raged between the adherents of the\\nrespective earls. It is a controversy, as it has\\nturned out, very like the battle of the Kilkenny\\ncats, in which the contestants swallowed each\\nother. Each party has demolished its adver-\\nsary, while it has done nothing for its own\\nSee Gentleman s Magazine for 1832.\\nMr. Samuel Butler, on, the strength of the line in Sonnet 20,\\nA man in hew, all Hews in his controlling, has another candidate\\nin one Mr. Hughes, or Hews, or Hewes, and runs a wild-goose chase\\nin search of him. After saying that dozens of William Hugheses had\\nexisted in England from time to time, one of them even a Bishop,\\nhe cannot discover this particular W. H., but describes him thus:\\nHe was more boy than man, good looking, of plausible, attractive\\nmanners, and generally popular. It is also plain that his character\\ndeveloped badly, and that, boy as he was, before the end of the\\nyear, he had got himself a bad name. He was vain, heartless, and I\\ncannot think cared two straws for Shakespeare, who no doubt bored\\nhim But he dearly loved flattery, and it flattered him to bring\\nShakespeare to heel [jzV] Moreover, he had just sense enough to\\nknow that Shakespeare laid the paint on thicker and more delectably\\nthan any one else did, therefore he would not let him go. Butler,\\nas writer and critic, is certainly withouC a peer.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0054.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 41\\ncause. Both are wrong, and both are right,\\nwrong as to its own position, but right as to\\nthat of its opponent.\\nIn the Fortnightly Review for December,\\n1897, Mr. WiUiam Archer demonstrated that\\nthe Sonnets were not addressed to the Earl of\\nSouthampton, but most hkely to the Earl of\\nPembroke but in the same review for February,\\n1898, Mr. Sidney Lee demonstrates that they\\nwere not addressed to the Earl of Pembroke,\\nbut that many of them were addressed to the\\nEarl of Southampton. Had the combatants\\npaid any attention to the requirements of chron-\\nology, they would have seen that they were both\\nbarking up the wrong tree for if we suppose\\nthe Sonnets to have been written during the\\nperiod I have fixed, i. e., between 1582 and\\n1592, as Southampton was born in 1573, and\\nPembroke in 1580, they were neither of them\\nof an age to attract the notice of the poet. To-\\nwards the close of it, Southampton, who was a\\nsort of general patron of literature, may have\\nbefriended the young playwright and won his\\ngratitude, but nothing more. Certainly that\\ngratitude would never have taken the peculiar\\nform it assumes in the Sonnets, that of cele-\\nbrating his amours. Southampton was among\\nthe richest noblemen of the day. He owned", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0055.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "42 A New Study of\\nestates in various parts of the kingdom, dressed\\nwith great magnificence, fared sumptuously,\\ntook part in pubHc affairs and expeditions, and\\nwas ever surrounded by a retinue of ladies and\\ngentlemen devoted to games and gayeties. If\\nShakespeare had undertaken to paint him in\\nverse, something of all this splendor would\\nhave appeared, but it is all overlooked in the\\nSonnets, and the place supplied by coarse flips\\nand familiarities.\\nAs to Pembroke, born in 1 580, he was either a\\nchild in arms, or running about in short clothes.\\nEven if we suppose the Sonnets were written at\\nany time before the mention of them by Meres\\n(1598), he was yet a lad at college, and not\\nlikely to have attracted the attention, much\\nless the unbounded admiration, of a busy actor\\nin London. On the other hand, if we suppose\\nthat they were not composed until about the\\ntime of their publication (1609), Shakespeare\\nwas then at the height of his activity as a play-\\nwright, producing such masterpieces as Muck\\nAdo, Twelfth Night, As You Like It, Hamlet,\\nOthello, Macbeth, and Lear, and not at all likely,\\nwhen his mind was heaving like an ocean with\\nthese great conceptions, to turn aside to dabble\\nin little dirty pools like those implied in both\\nthe Southampton and Pembroke theories.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0056.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 43\\nThe best confutation of the view that the\\nSonnets are tributes of friendship to any young\\nfellow of the time is a resume given of them\\nby both Professor Dowden and Mr. Furnivall/\\nwhich is so diverting that I am sure the reader\\nwill forgive me for reproducing one at some\\nlength. Each of them assumes throughout,\\nfor convenience sake, that the person ad-\\ndressed may always be called Will, an enormous\\nassumption in itself, but let that pass.^\\nShakespeare begins, says Mr. Dowden, by urging\\nWill to get married, but as I shall consider this marriage\\ntheory hereafter I shall dismiss it for the present. This\\nWill is the pattern and examplar of all human beauty\\n(Son. 19) he unites in himself the perfection of man\\nand woman (20). Although this is extravagant praise, it\\nis the simple truth (21) he has exchanged love with the\\npoet (22), who must needs be silent in the excess of his\\npassion (23), and who yet cherishes in his heart the image\\nof his friend s beauty (24), and holds still more dear the\\nlove from which no unkind fortune shall ever separate\\nhim (25). Here affairs of his own compel Shakespeare\\nto a journey which removes him from Will (26, 27).\\nSleepless by night, and toiling by day, he thinks only of\\nthe absent one (28) grieving over his own poor estate\\n(29) and the death of friends, but finding in the one\\nSee introduction to Shakespeare^ s Sonnets, by E. J. Rolfe. Har-\\nper and Brothers, New York, 1892.\\nThe numbers quoted are those of the Quarto.\\nWhich he does not, but rather rejoices in it.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0057.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "44 A New Study of\\nbeloved amends for all (30, 31) and so Shakespeare\\ncommends to his friend his poor verses as a token of his\\naffection, which may survive if he himself should die\\n(32). At this point the mood changes, for in his absence\\nhis friend has been false to friendship (33). Indeed, if\\nWill would let the sunshine of his favor beam out again,\\nthat would not cure the disgrace. Tears and penitence\\nare fitter (34) and for the sake of such tears Will shall be\\nforgiven (35) but henceforth their lives must run apart\\n(36) Shakespeare, separated from Will, can look on and\\nrejoice in his friend s happiness and honor (37), singing\\nhis praise in verse (38), which he could not do if they\\nwere so united that to praise his friend were self-praise\\n(39) separated they must be, and even their loves be no\\nlonger one. Shakespeare can now give his lady, even\\nher he loved, to the gentle thief for, wronged though he\\nis, he will still hold Will dear (40) what is he but a boy\\nwhom a woman has beguiled (41) and for both, for\\nfriend and mistress, in the midst of his pain, he will try\\nto feign excuses (42).\\nHere there seems to be a gap of time. The Sonnets\\nbegin again in absence, and some students have called\\nthis, perhaps rightly, the Second Absence (43). His\\nfriend continues as dear as ever, but confidence is shaken,\\nand a deep distrust arises (48) (jumping, at a bound, from\\n43 to 48). What right has a poor player to claim con-\\nstancy and love (49) He is on a journey which\\nremoves him from Will (50, 51). His friend perhaps\\nprofesses an unshaken loyalty, for Shakespeare now takes\\nFor which the false friend was not disdained at all.\\nThere is no feigning of excuses here, only a bit of humor-\\nous badinage.\\n^Although, according to Mr. Dowden s dates, this poor player was\\nthe author of the best plays that had ever yet been written.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0058.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 45\\nheart and praises Will s truth (53, 54)/ believing that his\\nown verse will keep forever that truth in mind. He will\\nendure the pain of absence, and have no jealous thoughts\\n(57, 58), striving to honor his friend in song, better than\\never man was honored before (59), in song that shall\\noutlast the revolutions of time (60). Still he cannot\\nquite get rid of jealous fears (61), and yet, what right\\nhas one so worn by years and care to claim all a young\\nman s love (62) Will, too, must fade, but his beauty\\nwill survive in verse (63). Alas, to think that death will\\ntake away the beloved one (64). Nothing but verse can\\ndefeat time and decay (65). For his own part, Shake-\\nspeare would v/illingly die, were it not that dying he\\nwould leave his friend in an evil world (66)/\\nWhy should one so beautiful live to grace this ill\\nworld (67) except as a survival of the genuine beauty of\\nthe good old times (68) yet beautiful as he is, he is\\nblamed for careless living (69) surely this must be\\nslander (70)/ Shakespeare here returns to the thought\\nOverlooking 52, in which Will is described as a most precious\\njewel, and whether bad or not bad, a perfect blessing which, being\\nhad, gives scope to triumph, and, being lacked, to hope.\\nSkipping 55, 56, which say that Will s praises shall outlive\\nmarble and the gilded monuments of princes, and find a place\\nin the eyes of all posterity.\\nWhere nothing is said of either years or care, but simply that he is\\nweakened artistically, and maimed by his inveterate selfishness.\\nDoes that mean that verse will keep the poor darling alive\\nThe poor dear, being one of the richest and most popular\\nnoblemen of the day, what a sad fate it was for him to be left alone\\nin a bad world\\nMr. Dowden passes over the fact that this friend who is here\\nsaid to present a pure, unstained prime, having passed through\\nthe various ambushes laid for the young, either unassailed, or, if\\nassailed, triumphant over all, is the same friend whose conduct in", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0059.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "46 A New Study of\\nof his own death when I leave this vile world, he\\nsays, let me be forgotten (71, 72) and my death is\\nnot very far off (73) but when I die my spirit still\\nlives in my verse (74).* A new group seems to begin\\nwith 75. Shakespeare loves his friend as a miser loves\\nhis gold, fearing it may be stolen (fearing a rival poet\\nHis verse is monotonous and old-fashioned (not like the\\nrival s verse (76) so he sends Will his manuscript\\nbook unfilled, which Will may fill, if he please, with verse\\nof his own Shakespeare chooses to sing no more of\\nBeauty and of Time Will s glass and dial may inform\\nhim henceforth on these topics (77). The rival poet\\nhas now won the first place in Will s esteem (78-86).\\nShakespeare must bid his friend farewell (87). If Will\\nshould scorn him, Shakespeare will side against himself\\n(88, 89) but if his friend is ever to hate him, let it be at\\nprevious sonnets is pronounced a trespass, a sin, a sensual\\nfault, a twofold violation of honor (Son. 35, 41).\\nGiving as a reason for his depression the unworthiness and fail-\\nure of his writings, although he had just said (55, 56) that his verse\\nwould give life to any one till the day of judgment.\\nMr. Dowden jumps here from 78 to 86, simply saying that\\nthe rival poet had won the first place in Will s esteem, but he\\ndoes not say what place Will had won in the poet s esteem, giving\\nway to an outbreak of the most fulsome adulation that was ever\\nuttered. Shakespeare tells Will (if we keep to Mr. Dowden s\\ntheory) that he is the poet s one source of inspiration, which lifts\\nhis ignorance as high as the highest learning (78) that other poets\\nhad discovered his secret and were reducing him to silence (79)\\nthat Will s excellence is as wide as the ocean on which every bark\\nmay ride (80) that it is past all praise (82) that he needs no deco-\\nration or painting (83) and that simply to say to Will, You are\\nyou alone, will win for his style a universal and endless admiration\\n(84), in fact, that Will s praise is beyond all expression, so that in\\nlistening to it one can only exclaim helplessly, T is so, t is true.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0060.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 47\\nonce, that the bitterness of death may soon be past\\n(90) he has dared to say farewell, but his friend s love\\nis all the world to him, and the fear of losing him is\\nmisery (91) indeed, he cannot lose his friend, for death\\nwould come quickly to save him from such grief and\\nyet, Will may be false and Shakespeare never know it\\n(92), so his friend, fair in seeming, false within, would\\nbe like Eve s apple (93).^ Yet, it is to such self-contained,\\npassionless persons that nature entrusts the rarest gifts\\nof grace and beauty, but vicious indulgence will spoil\\nthe fairest human soul (94) so let Will beware of his\\nyouthful vices, already whispered by the lips of men\\n(95), True, Will makes graces out of faults, but this\\nshould be kept within bounds (95). Here again, per-\\nhaps, is a gap of time. Sonnets 97-99 are written in ab-\\nsence, which some students perhaps rightly call the Third\\nAbsence. These three sonnets are full of tender affec-\\ntion, but at the close of 99 allusion is made to Will s\\nvices, the canker in the rose. After this followed a\\nperiod of silence in 100 love begins to renew itself, and\\nsong awakes. Shakespeare excuses his silence (loi)\\nhis love has grown while he was silent (102). His\\nfriend s loveliness is better than all song (103). Three\\nyears have passed since their first acquaintance Will\\nlooks as young as ever, though time must be insensibly\\naltering his beauty (104), Shakespeare sings with a mo-\\nnotony of love (105). All former singers, praising\\nknights and ladies, only prophesied concerning Will\\n(106). Grief and fear are past the two friends are\\nThough he had described it in the loudest terms several times.\\ne., a source of all evil.\\nWill s very shame is sweet and lovely naming his name blesses\\nan ill report.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0061.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "48 A New Study of\\nreconciled again/ and both live forever united in\\nShakespeare s verse (107). Love has conquered Time\\nand age, which destroy mere beauty of face (108).\\nShakespeare confesses his errors, but now he has re-\\nturned to his home of love (109) he will never wander\\nagain (no) his past faults were partly caused by his\\ntemptations as a player (in) and he cares for no\\npraise or blame except that of his friend (112).\\nOnce more he is absent from his friend, but full of\\nloving thought of him (113, 114). Love has grown and\\nwill grow yet more (115). Love is unconquerable by\\nTime (116), Shakespeare confesses again his wander-\\nings from his friend they were tests of Will s con-\\nstancy (117) and they quickened his own appetite for\\ngenuine love (118), Ruined love rebuilt is stronger\\nthan at first (119) there were wrongs on both sides and\\nmust now be mutual forgiveness (120). Shakespeare is\\nnot to be judged by the report of malicious censors\\n(121) he has given away his friend s present of a\\ntable-book because he needed no remembrancer (122)\\nrecords and registers of time are false only a lover s\\nmemory is to be wholly trusted, recognizing old things\\nin what seem new (123) Shakespeare s love is not based\\non self-interest, and therefore is uninfluenced by fortune\\n(124) nor is it founded on external beauty of form or\\nface, but is simple love for love s sake (125)^ Will is\\nstill young and fair, yet he must remember that the end\\nmust come at last (126).\\nThe third or fourth time.\\nThis rendering is so inadequate that it is almost a perversion.\\nHe says that his friend, and nobody else, shall ever be his only\\nstandard of right and wrong.\\nYet he had extolled it in the most extravagant phrases.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0062.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 49\\nProfessor Dowden does not follow Will\\nthrough the black depths of the Dark-Lady in-\\ntrigue, as Mr. Furnivall does to his utter\\nhorror and surely we have had enough of\\nthis farrago of nonsense, contradiction, syco-\\nphancy, and degradation. Our only wonder\\nis, that a writer of such insight and accom-\\nplishment as Professor Dowden should allow\\nit to go forth as the sum and substance of these\\nSonnets, and an outline of Shakespeare s life.\\nIt must have been, doubtless, from some foul\\nsource of this kind that Hippolyte Taine\\ndrew,^ when he pronounced Shakespeare\\none of the losels of his time, associating with licentious\\nyoung nobles, and addicted to the sweet abandonment\\nof love without restraint, having many mistresses, and,\\namong them, one at least like Marion Delorme, from\\nwhose meretricious delusions he could not and did not\\ncare to escape. He was not only the willing, but de-\\nlighted slave of his passions all his life, with now and\\nthen a prick of remorse, which gave him pain, but\\nbrought no reformation.\\nWhat is most offensive in these caricatures\\nand most to be deprecated is, that they present\\nthe poet in an aspect so different from that we\\nget from his plays, where, great as he was in\\nimaginative fancy, discernment of character,\\n^History of English Literature, vol. ii., chap, 4. Paris,\\nHachette Co., 1866.\\n4", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0063.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "50 The Sonnets of Shakespeare\\nand wit, he was still greater, as Coleridge con-\\ntends, in clear-sighted, solid, and imperturbable\\njudgment. In his management of his plots, in\\nhis discernment of the minutest shades of\\ncharacter, in adaptation of words to persons\\nand situations, his good sense appears supreme.\\nHe falls into serious faults at times, he makes\\nmistakes, and he exaggerates, but these are\\nexceptions to his proverbial excellences which\\nit surprises us to encounter. Even in the\\nmoral sphere, amid the impurities that pervade\\nsocial life, he never confounds vice with virtue,\\nnor asks us, indulgent as he may be to human\\nweakness, to sympathize with the ignoble, the\\ndegraded, or the false. Why, then, seek to\\ninterpret the Sonnets in a sense which the\\ngreater works avoid", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0064.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "PART first:\\nA NEW STUDY OF THE SONNETS.\\n51", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0065.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0066.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "PART first:\\nA NEW STUDY OF THE SONNETS.\\nPUTTING aside these attempts at inter-\\npretation which are more or less\\nabortive, let us see if we cannot reach better\\nresults by a simpler and more scientific method.\\nThat such results are desirable I assume in\\nspite of the high authority of Mr. Swinburne,\\nwho warns all intruders off the premises with\\na magisterial solemnity of manner that would\\nbe awful if it were not a little ludicrous. After\\nspeaking in a bumptious way of the prepos-\\nterous pyramid of presumptuous commentary,\\nthat has long since been reared, by Cimmerian\\nspeculation and Beotian brain-sweat of scio-\\nlists and scholiasts, he takes a gulp of breath\\n(much needed under such a burden of words),\\nand then adds that no modest man will hope\\nand no wise man will desire, to add to the\\nstructure, or to subtract from it, one single\\nbrick of proof or disproof, of theorem or\\ntheory, meaning, if he means anything,\\nA Study of Shakespeare, by Algernon Charles Swinburne,\\np. 62. New York, Worthington, 1886.\\n53", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0067.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "54 A New Study of\\nthat the old mud-heaps of nonsense are for\\nsome reason or other sacred, and must be\\nallowed to remain undisturbed.\\nNevertheless, despite the frowns of so emi-\\nnent a judge, I venture to suggest that much is\\nto be said and much ought to be said on the sub-\\nject, if for no other reason than to rescue the\\ngreatest of poets from the mass of misinterpreta-\\ntion and obloquy which has been shovelled upon\\nhim by silly and conceited scribes. Every\\nman who uses the English language, which he\\ninherits from his ancestors and hopes to trans-\\nmit to his descendants, is naturally eager to\\nvindicate, or to see vindicated, the greatest of\\nits representatives.\\nLet me say at the outset, that in proceed-\\ning to a new study of the Sonnets I began with\\nthe text itself, as it is, and not with any\\ntheory, outside of the text, which it was hoped\\nthe text would confirm. With pen in hand I\\nwrote out a prose paraphrase of each sonnet\\nas it came, marking in the margin (ist) the\\nperson or thing to which it seemed to relate,\\neither real or imaginary (2d) the various\\nemotions expressed, whether of love or\\nhate, of hope or despair; and (3d) the pre-\\ndominant thought which generally comes as a\\nclimax in the closing couplet. Of course, in", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0068.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 55\\nmaking these paraphrases, I varied the lan-\\nguage when clearness of meaning appeared to\\nrender it necessary, but in no case substituted\\na wholly new text except by confessed con-\\njecture. Of course, too, as my aim was\\nexegetical and not sesthetical, I was often com-\\npelled to a painful sacrifice of the poetry of a\\npassage to its apparent sense. This is justified\\nby the rules of scriptural and classical exegesis.\\nI had not proceeded far in this way when\\ntwo things forced themselves upon my atten-\\ntion, the first was that some few of the\\nsonnets had no discernible connection with\\nany of the others, and might be put aside as\\nsolitaries or independents and the second\\nwas that those which had an evident connec-\\ntion arranged themselves, of themselves, into\\ngroups, of which the affinities almost leaped\\nto the eyes. I say that they arranged them-\\nselves of themselves, meaning that they came\\ntogether without any preconceived theory or\\npurpose of my own. I had nothing in my mind\\nbeforehand which I wished to prove, beyond a\\ndesire to discover if anything could be proved\\nby an honest and self-consistent compilation.\\nIn recognizing this spontaneity of adjustment\\nI met with but one difficulty, the fact that, as\\nthe sonnets are addressed sometimes to ab-", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0069.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "56 A New Study of\\nstract and sometimes to concrete persons or\\nthings, it was not always easy at a glance to\\nsay to which of these categories this or that\\nparticular sonnet belonged. Thus there was a\\npossibility that in making a choice between\\nthe two my judgment might be at fault but\\nof that the reader, having the whole case\\nbefore him, will decide for himself.\\nThe divisions that formed themselves in this\\nspontaneous way may be arranged as follows\\nLA central or explanatory sonnet.\\nII. A few sonnets which cannot be gathered\\ninto a fold with any of the others, and stand\\nout as so many Independents nine in all.\\nIII. A group forming a somewhat continu-\\nous poem, which is commonly said to be a\\npersuasion to a young man of genius and\\npromise to get married, but which has, as I\\ntake it, an entirely different object.\\nIV. A series of Love Poems, descriptive (a)\\nof an early and ardent attachment, (b) of a sep-\\naration from the beloved, {c) of the pains and\\npleasures of absence, and of a young poet s\\nfirst impressions, under these circumstances, of\\nthe great world.\\nV. Another group of Love Poems, but of\\nanother kind, depicting the origin, progress,\\nand end of an irregular amatory relation, and", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0070.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 57\\nwhich may be called The Episode of the\\nDark Lady.\\nVI. And, finally, a group relating to the\\npoet s communion with a Higher or Tenth\\nMuse as he calls it, meaning the personified\\nSpirit or Genius of Poetry in its highest con-\\nception. This group reveals {a) the youthful\\naspirations of the poet, (d) his efforts to re-\\nalize them, (c) the obstacles he encounters,\\nand (d) his ultimate success and triumph over\\nall difficulties.\\nI shall treat of these divisions in turn, but I\\nthink that any intelligent and unprejudiced\\nreader will see at once that they are natural,\\nand not artificial or forced, and that they in-\\nvolve only incidents which might occur in the\\ncareer of any writer of distinction. They are\\nderived directly and exclusively from the\\nSonnets themselves without reference to any\\noutside history save a few general facts of the\\npoet s life which all writers concede to be well\\nknown and well verified, as, for instance, that\\nhe was born in the country, that he was married\\nthere at a very early age, that he removed to\\nLondon and became an actor and writer of\\nfamous poems and plays simple data which\\neverybody has a right to take for granted in\\nhis studies of the poet s works.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0071.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "58 A New Study of\\nI. A CENTRAL AND EXPLANATORY SONNET.\\nAmong the sonnets which I had put aside\\nas Independents there was one that impressed\\nme very much as pecuhar in its sentiment and\\nposition. The versions commonly given of it\\nseemed to me extremely puerile and yet there\\nwas a version of it that came to me, which,\\nwithout changing a line or syllable in it, and\\nby simply changing the point of view, rendered\\nit singularly luminous. It seemed to me to de-\\nclare directly the purposes of the author in\\nwriting, or, in other words, to tell why he\\nwrote at all. Thus it presented itself to me as\\na sort of guide in the interpretation of the\\nSonnets generally but what impressed me still\\nmore was that this sonnet, either by design\\nor accident, was the central sonnet of the se-\\nries as a whole. Dividing 154 by 2 we get\\nj^, which is, strange to say, the number of this\\nsonnet. By whom the original numbering\\nwas done we do not know, but it is certainly\\nnot an extravagance to suppose that the writer\\nhimself may have purposely affixed this 77 to\\na sonnet which he considered in some degree\\nexplanatory. That sonnet reads as follows\\nThy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,\\nThy dial how thy precious minutes waste", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0072.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 59\\nThe vacant leaves thy mind s imprint will bear,\\nAnd of this book this learning mayst thou taste.\\nThe wrinkles which thy glass will truly show\\nOf mouthed graves will give thee memory\\nThou by thy dial s shady stealth mayst know\\nTime s thievish progress to eternity.*\\nLook, what thy memory cannot contain\\nCommit to these waste blanks, and thou shalt find\\nThose children nursed, deliver d from thy brain.\\nTo take a new acquaintance of thy mind/\\nThese offices, so oft as thou wilt look.\\nShall profit thee and much enrich thy book.\\nWhat, I asked myself, do these words mean\\nProbably, wrote Mr. Steevens many years\\nago, that sonnet was designed to accompany\\nthe present of a book of blank paper (to one\\nof the poet s patrons, either the Earl of South-\\nampton, or the Earl of Pembroke, or some-\\nbody else). This conjecture, solemnly\\nechoed Mr. Malone, this conjecture is exceed-\\ningly probable and the commentators who\\ncame after them have repeated the sagacious\\nguess as if nothing more could be said. Mr.\\nFurnivall, however, was a little more specific,\\nand added that the present consisted of a\\nlittle book, a dial, and a pocket looking-glass,\\nRolfe refers here to thievish minutes of All s Well, ii., i, 169.\\nShakespeare, I think, often uses the ejaculation look in the\\nsense of the French voila.\\nTo take a new acquaintance is equivalent to take n vf note\\nor knowledge of anything.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0073.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "6o A New Study of\\ncombined In one by what curious mechanism\\nthey were combined the learned expositor did\\nnot say only he was sure that they were com-\\nbined in one. This rare instrument it Seems\\nwas to be sent to one of the poet s patrons,\\nsome nobleman of the day, with a request in so\\nmany words that he should write in the blatTk\\nbook, in order to ascertain and so to show the\\nworld what sort of notions were passing in his\\nnoddle. In our day an impertinence of this\\nkind would procure the perpetrator of it a\\nsound box of the ears, or a lusty kick on the\\nseat of his trousers, and I do not doubt that\\nthe culprit in the more violent times of Queen\\nElizabeth would have received a more impetu-\\nous repulse.\\nDowden elaborately expounds the poem\\nthus Beauty, Time and Verse formed\\nthe theme of many of Shakespeare s sonnets\\nbut now that he will write no more, he com-\\nmends his friend to the glass, where he may\\ndiscover the truth about his beauty to the dial,\\nthat he may learn the progress of ti ine and to\\nthis book, which he himself (not Shakespeare)\\nmust fill a rather unseemly hint on the part\\nof a poet who in the next poem celebrates his\\nfriend as his highest source of inspiration and\\nof that art, born of thee, which has lifted", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0074.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 6i\\nhis rude ignorance into the loftiest regions of\\nknowledge.\\nWas ever a more outr^ construction given\\nto the plainest language, than in all this?\\nThe poet speaks throughout the sonnet of thy\\nglass, thy dial, which could scarcely refer to\\na glass or dial which he was going to send to\\nanother person as a present the thy, there-\\nfore, must have had some other meaning, which\\nbecomes obvious if we suppose that the poet\\nis sitting in his own room, communing with\\nhimself, his writing materials before him, and\\nabout to put down his thoughts of the mo-\\nment. Imaginative as he was, he yet took\\nhis suggestions from what was immediately\\naround him, and he said to himself That mir-\\nror yonder, hanging on the wall, informs thee\\nhow thy good looks are wearing away that\\nDutch clock ticking on the mantelpiece shows\\nthee the rapid passage of time (both import-\\nant lessons) but these vacant leaves destined\\nto receive the imprint of thy mind, will form a\\nbook and give thee a taste of a different kind of\\nlearning. What was that The poet thought-\\nfully replied Thy glass, revealing thy\\nwrinkles as they come, will remind thee of the\\nmouthed graves that open on all sides of\\nhuman life thy dial will mark the stealthy", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0075.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "62 A New Study of\\nsteps with which time measures out its thiev-\\nish progress to eternity but these waste leaves,\\nwhen thou shalt commit to them the thoughts\\nthat memory cannot retain, will deliver the\\nchildren nursed in thy brain into actual life\\nand thereby furnish thee with a new acquaint-\\nance with thy mind. Moreover this service, as\\noften as it shall be repeated, will add to thy\\nproficiency as a writer and greatly improve thy\\nfuture productions. In fewer words, what\\nthe poet declares is, that his Sonnets were\\nwritten as records of his passing meditations,\\nand also as studies to be used in future labors.\\nAnd could anything be more simple and natural\\nthan that Every literary man, I suppose,\\nhas done the same thing, with the same pur-\\npose. In my own small way, I know that I\\nhave a hundred times leaped out of bed at\\nnight to make a note of some thought or image\\nthat seemed to me to be worth the preserving.\\nMr. Irving s editor (A. Wilson Verity), in a\\nnote to this sonnet,^ came near discerning its\\nreal purport when he said that it advised\\nthree things (i) Look into your glass and\\nyou will see how your beauty fades (2) look\\nto your dial and you will realize how time flies\\nand (3) write your thoughts from time to time\\nIrving s Shakespeare, vol. viii,, p. 444.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0076.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 63\\non the vacant leaves, or waste blanks of\\nthis volume, and then, reading over what you\\nhave written, you will realize what has gone on\\nin your own nature, and appreciate the double\\nchange, outward and inward. But unfortu-\\nnately Mr. Verity did not see that Shakespeare\\nwas talking to himself and not intruding his\\nadvice upon anybody else, and so he missed the\\nsolution.\\nThe keeping of note-books was a common\\npractice of the times, as we may learn from\\nBacon s Promus and other authorities. Shake-\\nspeare s addiction to it appears not only in\\nthis sonnet, but from several allusions to it\\nin the plays. Hamlet, for instance, in a mo-\\nment of singular absorption, called for his tab-\\nlets that he might write down the ghostly\\ncommunications of his father. That Shake-\\nspeare also held such records as hints or germs\\nof future labors, we may infer from the\\ngreat number of coincidences in word, image,\\nor situation, between the sonnets and their\\nauthor s poems and plays, some of which I\\nshall hereafter cite.^\\nWhat is strongly confirmatory of this view\\nI have counted more than two hundred of these sin:iilarities, as\\npointed out by the critics, some of them nearly identical, others\\ninvolving words of peculiar meaning, not common at the time.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0077.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "64 A New Study of\\nas to the exclusive personal bearing of the\\nSonnets, is the entire absence from them of\\nany reference to contemporary public events.\\nLiving at an epoch of intense and widespread\\nagitation, one of the most stirring known to\\nhistory, when the circumnavigation of the\\nglobe and vast maritime discoveries had im-\\nparted a new aspect to the earth when the\\ndestruction of the Spanish Armada was the\\ngreatest naval catastrophe that had ever oc-\\ncurred when the incessant religious wars of\\nthe continent deluged nearly all Europe in\\nblood when the brutal execution of Mary\\nQueen of Scots, and the massacre of St. Bar-\\ntholomew, aroused fiery and universal animosi-\\nties, and when the movement of religious\\nopinion had separated large masses of human\\nthought forever from the creeds of the Middle\\nAges, the poet never so much as hints at\\nany of these moral and social convulsions he\\nconfines his lines to incidents and situations\\nthat immediately concerned his own individual\\nfeelings and the narrow circle in which they\\nmoved and while his plays are a many-colored\\nmirror of the intense, active, bustling, and tu-\\nmultuous throes of human life, involving kings\\nand dynasties and the rise and fall of nations,\\nand of vast societies in all their magnificence", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0078.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 65\\nand import, showing his deep interest in such\\nevents, the Sonnets run on in their simple\\nway, undisturbed and scarcely rippled by a\\nbreath of the surrounding commotions.\\nII. THE INDEPENDENTS OR SOLITARIES.\\nTnese are only nine in number, and of no\\ngreat interest. Two of them (145 and 126)\\nare not sonnets at all, as sonnets were\\nthen understood, but octosyllabic verses in con-\\nsecutive rhymes. The first (145) plays upon\\na poor jest in a rather doggerel style, and\\nthe second (126) is so confused that nobody\\nas yet has been able to give it an intelligible\\nexplanation. Some critics think it refers in\\nsome way to Cupid, but do not tell us in what\\nway, and others to some mystic personification\\nof the relations of Nature and Art, but go no\\nfarther than that.\\nTwo others of these Independents are dif-\\nferent but similar versions of an old Greek\\nfable about Cupid and the Nymphs. It was\\nfor a long time unknown where Shakespeare\\nhad found the original, but in 1878, a learned\\nGerman, Herr Hertzberg, disco ^red it in the\\nByzantine Marianus, an epigrammatist of the\\nfifth century after Christ. From him it was", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0079.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "66 A New Study of\\nturned into Latin several times during the\\nsixteenth century, and so made its way into\\nEngland, where it was put to use by Surrey\\nand Shenstone as well as by Shakespeare.\\nThe rest of the Independents (19, 26, 63,\\n81, 122) are obviously addresses to particular\\nfriends, extolling their virtues and promising\\nthem immortality, in the manner of the times.\\nOne of these (26) is so like in its tone,\\naiii4 even expression, to the dedications of\\n^enus and. Adonis ,and of the Lucrece to the\\nEarl of Southampton, that he has been sup-\\nposed to be its object. The resemblance is\\nnot, however, so clear as to place the point\\nbeyond doubt. But if we assume that it was so\\naddressed, it is the only instance in which we are\\nable to identify any of the sonnets with a then\\nliving and distinguished personage. Another\\nof these Independents (81) may, perhaps, bear\\nupon that belief of some of the Humanists\\nwhich identified all life with the earthly life.\\nShakespeare says to his friend Whether you\\nor I survive the other here, your name will never\\nbe lost to memory, while I shall be dead to all\\nthe world and forgotten. The earth will fur-\\nnish me no more than a grave, but you shall\\nbe entombed in the eyes of men. Your monu-\\nment will be my verse, which will be read when", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0080.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 67\\nall who now breathe are dead. Thus death\\nseems to be represented as final doom, from\\nwhich the fame given by the poet will be the\\nonly escape. This kind of prediction, how-\\never, was so common in those days that a\\nsingle instance of it can hardly be cited as\\npositive evidence in the case.\\nIII. A PLEA FOR POETIC OR CREATIVE ART.\\nIt is generally held by commentators that the\\nfirst seventeen sonnets of the Quarto were\\naddressed to a young friend of the poet, in\\norder to persuade him to get married. Not\\none of them, so far as I can discover, saving\\nthe allegorists, seems to have considered it\\npossible to arrive at any other construction.\\nSome, indeed, have carried this view so far as\\nto name the very persons and dates involved.\\nThey say that the young friend concerned was\\nthe Earl of Pembroke, whose mother and\\nother relatives became exceedingly anxious,\\nwhen he was about seventeen years of age, to\\nally him to a granddaughter of the famous\\nLord Burleigh, though she was still younger\\nthan he.^ Not succeeding in their efforts\\n(doubtless owing to the reluctance of the gay\\nSee the whole story in Mr. Tyler s Introduction to his fac-simih\\nedition of the Quarto.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0081.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "68 A New Study of\\nbachelor to be captured), they appHed to\\nthe poet who is alleged to have been an\\nintimate acquaintance to make use of his abili-\\nties as a mentor; which he did, not, how-\\never, by way of personal intercession, but by\\nwriting him poems. The attempt was a\\nfailure for it appears from other sonnets,\\nwhich are regarded as having been addressed\\nto the same person, that the mentor himself\\ngot entangled in one of the youth s intrigues\\nand did not come out of it with credit.\\n(i) The Worth of this Version.\\nAs to this marital theory, we are not strongly\\nimpressed in its favor when we find that the\\nword marriage does not occur in any of the\\npoems said to have been written to commend\\nthis relation. Married, as an adjective,\\nappears once, where it is used as a figure for\\nthe concord of well-ordered sounds (Son. 8,\\n11. 5, 6).^ Neither do those essential compo-\\nnents of the married state, husband and wife,\\ncome upon the stage at all we read of a\\nhusband, but then it is of a note in a song,\\nwhich is called the husband of another note,\\nand we read of a wife, but she is already a\\nIt is here used as in Troilus and Cressida, when the married\\nunity and calm of States is spoken of.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0082.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 69\\nmakeless wife, thatis, a widow but together\\nor as connected one with another they are not\\nseen. Stranger still, the prospective bride\\nand blessing of the lad is not so much as\\nhinted at in any way. On the contrary, she\\nis shuffled out of sight by a bevy of other\\nmaidens who have no right to be there. One\\nwould naturally suppose in a case of this kind\\nthat a poet, and that poet Shakespeare, would\\nhave lavished some of his finest metaphors on\\nthe elected lass, but the father of Juliet, Perdita,\\nImogen, and Beatrice had nothing to say in\\nthe premises. At the same time he had a great\\ndeal to say about those other damsels, repre-\\nsented not only as charming, but as eager,\\nshame to them, to reciprocate the lad s ad-\\nvances. He tells of many maiden gardens\\nwhich would like to bear him living flowers\\n(Son. 16, 11. 5-9). It is only for him to choose,\\nand he is apparently urged to choose without\\ndiscrimination. He is urged, too, with such\\npersistency that the poet stands forth more as\\nan advocate for free love than as the champion\\nof an exclusive and sacred institution. Indeed\\nmany critics, forgetful of their theory, adduce\\nlines 162-174 of Venus and Adonis as parallels\\n1 Makeless wife in the Quarto means here a mateless wife, or\\nwife without a mate.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0083.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "70 A New Study of\\nto this reading of the Sonnets.^ Bosworth\\nand Boaden call them expansions, and\\nDowden s first note, followed by Irving s edi-\\ntor, says that they are treatments of the same\\ntheme. For myself, I had always fancied that\\nthe relations of Venus and Adonis were pre-\\ncisely opposite to those of marriage but we\\nmust live and learn, when writers have theories\\nto defend.\\nIt is true that we encounter such words and\\nphrases as issue, breed, getting a son,\\nproducing one s semblance, this fair child\\nof thine, and others of the sort, which imply\\nmarriage, but not necessarily so or always so,\\nbecause they may imply also irregular sex rela-\\ntions. A man may be a father, and so have\\nissue, and produce his semblance, etc.,\\nwithout having consulted the authorities of\\nChurch or State for sanction.\\nTorches are made to light, jewels to wear,\\nDainties to taste, fresh beauty for the use,\\nHerbs for their smell, and sappy plants to bear\\nThings growing to themselves are growth s abuse\\nSeeds spring from seeds and beauty breedeth beauty\\nThou wast begot to get it is thy duty.\\nUpon the earth s increase why shouldst thou feed,\\nUnless the earth with thy increase be fed\\nBy law of nature thou art bound to breed.\\nThat thine may live when thou thyself art dead\\nAnd so, in spite of death, thou dost survive,\\nIn that thy likeness still is left alive.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0084.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 71\\nThen, in the second place, the arguments\\naddressed to the young fellow by his poetical\\nmentor are not on the whole very effective.\\nSix or seven of the poems are so irrelevant\\nthat a stranger to the literature of the sub-\\nject might read them attentively without the\\nslightest suspicion that they related to mar-\\nriage. Under the circumstances alleged we\\nshould expect the poet to advise the boy\\nthat, being at the head of a rich and powerful\\nfamily, having wide social connections and\\nserious political responsibilities, it was to the\\nlast degree important that he should form a\\ndesirable matrimonial alliance, in order to\\nkeep up its dignity and power, and to do so\\nwhile in the vigor of his years. But these\\nconsiderations are not touched upon at all,\\nand the learned attorney in verse goes wander-\\ning about in a way not calculated to impress a\\n-youngster more full of passion than philosophy.\\nj An acute lawyer or a politician would have\\ntold him more to the purpose in seventeen\\nj minutes than the poet has told him in sevjen-\\nteen labored and somewhat complicated poeti-\\ncal productions. It is no wonder then that he\\nthrew them to the dogs, while he proceeded to\\namuse himself with the poet s own perplexi-\\nties. Certainly it was a most anomalous effort,", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0085.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "72 A New Study of\\nwhich, designed expressly to commend a cer-\\ntain condition, does not call it by name, nor\\nrefer to any of its characteristic features.\\nShakespeare was a good logician as well as a\\nmaster of rhetoric, and his shortcomings here\\nare a pretty strong proof that the critics have\\nbeen following a wrong trail. j\\n2 A More Probable Solution.\\nWhat, then, are we to make of these poems\\nwhich have been so almost universally con-\\nstrued as didactics addressed to an individual\\nto persuade him to a special act My answer\\nis, that they are a work of the imagination of\\na far more general aim than is implied in this\\ntheory. They are figurative, not literal, and,\\nwhile they nominally advise a young man of\\nbeauty and accomplishments to multiply and\\nperpetuate himself by the natural process of\\nprocreation, they really mean that he shall\\nmultiply and perpetuate himself by the spiritual\\nprocess of creation, or by the exercise of his\\nfaculties in verse-writing or poetry. Let us see.\\nBy the use of thee, thou, and thine\\nmany times in thirteen sonnets, and of you\\nor yours nearly as many times in four sonnets,\\nwe are left in no doubt that a person is meant\\nto be addressed but as that person is without", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0086.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare H\\nname, place, or vocation in the air as it\\nwere, we have a right to infer that he is\\nrather abstract and imaginary than real. We\\nare told that he is young, rich in youth,\\nor in his golden prime, i. e., new on the\\nscene we are told that he is beautiful, the\\nword beauty or some equivalent being applied\\nto him more than twenty times and we are\\ntold that he is endowed with the richest\\ngraces, ample enough to enable him, if he\\nlikes, to furnish others from his treasury.\\nBut we are also told that he is utterly indifferent\\nto these bounteous bestowments that he leads\\na life of solitary self-indulgence, looking no\\nfarther than his bright eyes can see, and\\nhaving traffic or intercourse only with himself.\\nHe is severely reproached with this abstention,\\nas a cruel wrong done to himself, and a\\nreckless disappointment of the hopes of man-\\nkind. He must change his course, and change\\nit at once, lest he should fall into utter decay\\nand oblivion.\\nOur poet opens his theme by referring to a\\nfew instances of change which had directed his\\nattention to the subject and to the youth in-\\nvolved.\\nSon. 12. When I remark the passage of the hours\\nupon the clock, and see the bright day sink into dismal", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0087.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "74 A New Study of\\nnight when I behold the violet past its prime, with its\\nsable color silvered over with v/hite when I see the\\nfoliage of the forest, which lately sheltered the herds\\nfrom heat, now fallen and scattered when I see all the\\ngreen growths of summer gathered up in sheaves and\\nborne away on a bier in their white and gristly beards\\nI am led to ponder upon thy Beauty, and to think how it,\\ntoo, must go into the wastes of time, like all things sweet\\nand fair, which lose their qualities and die as fast as\\nother things appear and grow while there is no defence\\nagainst Time s ravages save breed, or the production\\nof that which will withstand him when he has carried\\nthee away.\\nIt is plain that the word breed in the\\ncouplet here is not used in the usual sense of\\nthe engendered, but in a more derivative sense,\\ninasmuch as the instances adduced are taken\\nfrom the vegetal world, where it has the\\nsignificance given it when we say that use\\nbreeds habit, that money breeds interest,\\nthat public means do public manners breed,\\nor even that nuns breed scarcity. It is be-\\ncause the critics have not marked this dis-\\ntinction that they have been somewhat misled\\nin their interpretations.\\nThen the poet accuses his youth of a\\nThe Quarto reads, and sable curls all silvered o er with\\nwhite, which I think would read better thus its sable color sil-\\nvered o er with white. Hamlet (i., 2, 242) speaks of a sable\\nsilvered.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0088.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 75\\nnegligence, which is both a cruel wrong to\\nhimself and others.\\nSon. I. We desire increase from the fairest Creatures\\nin order that, thereby, the Rose of Beauty, or Beauty\\nin its highest expression, may never cease but as the\\nriper shows of it disappear, some tender successor may\\nkeep it alive at least in memory. But thou, contracting\\nthy vision to the narrow range of thine own bright eyes,\\ndost feed thy flame of light by a self-substantial fuel (or\\na fuel of the same substance as itself), and thereby\\ncreate a famine at the very source of abundance. In\\nthat thou art thine own foe, for thou art now a fresh\\nornament of the world, an early herald of the spring,\\nand yet dost bury thy bud in its own contents,\\nwhich is a saving that makes a waste. Pity the world\\nby meeting its expectations, or else be a kind of glutton,\\nwho consumes what is due to mankind whilst he is alive,\\nand will be due even after he is in his grave.^\\nPushing his charges still further, the poet\\nprotests that his friend is even destitute of\\ncommon affections.\\nSon. 10. For shame and confess thou hast no love\\nfor any when thou art so improvident for thyself\\nEven if we should grant that thou art beloved by many,\\nThe Quarto has, the only herald to the spring, which is an\\nobvious misprint for an early herald.\\nThis recalls a passage in Romeo and Juliet (i., i, 210) which\\nsays, and in that sparing makes huge waste.\\nThe Quarto has, to eat the world s due, by the grave and\\nthee, which would he clearer if read, by thy grave as thee, i. e.,\\nin death as in life.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0089.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "76 A New Study of\\nit is very evident that thou dost not return that love.\\nThou art possessed, instead of it, by a murderous\\nhate, which does not hesitate to conspire against thy-\\nself, and to ruin that beautiful habitation which it should\\nbe thy principal aim to keep in the best repair. Oh,\\nchange thy course in this that I may change my opinion\\nof thee Shall hate be more fairly lodged than gentle\\nlove? Be as gracious and kindly in thine acts as thou art\\nin thy presence, or, at least, be generous to thyself (for\\nmy sake if not thine own), that thy beauty may still live\\nin thy productions, as it does in thy person.\\nUnless he does so the poet condemns the\\nyouth as ungrateful to nature, to himself, and\\nwholly without excuse.\\nSon. 4. Unthrifty Loveliness, why dost thou expend\\nupon thyself that legacy of beauty bequeathed to thee\\nby nature Nature does not give at all, but lends, and\\nshe lends freely because she hopes for an equal liberality\\nof return.* O beautiful Niggard, why dost thou abuse\\nthe largess given thee only to give back again Unprof-\\nitable Usurer, why dost thou revel in such wealth and be\\nyet unable to subsist upon the proceeds Having traffic\\nwith thyself alone, thou dost defraud thyself of real\\nbenefit, and when nature shall take thee away, what\\nA similar thought is expressed in Measure for Measure (i., i, 36):\\nNature never lends\\nThe smallest scruple of her excellence\\nBut, like a thrifty goddess, she determines\\nHerself the glory of a creditor,\\nBoth thanks and use.\\nOne would scarcely call this recommendation of liberality a motive\\nto marriage.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0090.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 11\\nacceptable account canst thou leave of thine administra-\\ntion Thy beauty unused (that is, unexpressed), will be\\nentombed with thee, whereas, if it had been expressed,\\nit would survive to be thine executor, or representative.\\nAnd now is the time to begin the change,\\nthe poet adds.\\nSon. J. Look into thy glass,* and tell the face reflected\\nthere that now is the time to reproduce that face, which,\\nif not done, thou dost beguile the world, and withhold\\na blessing from some mother.* There is no subject, as\\nyet untouched, that would disdain thy husbandry\\nor who is there so foolish in his self-love that he will\\nallow himself to be entombed without caring for a suc-\\ncessor As the glass above referred to was thy mirror,\\nso shouldst thou be a mirror of nature, who recalleth in\\nthee the lovely April of her own springtime, as thou (by\\na proper care of it) shalt be able, through the windows\\nof thine age, and in spite of wrinkles, to see thy golden\\nyears again. But if thou list (or desirest) not to be\\nremembered, die in thy solitariness (or without the inter-\\ncourse with nature commended here) and thine image\\nAvill perish with thee.\\nThis sonnet plays upon the word glass, I think, using it first\\nfor the mirror which reflects the young man s face, and then for\\nthe young man himself, as a mirror of nature, A use of it similar to\\nthe latter occurs in the Rape of Lticrece (1. 1758):\\nPoor broken glass, I often did behold\\nIn thy sweet semblance my old age renewed.\\nThe locution here is curious: Unbless some mother, i. e.,\\nwithhold from some aspect of nature and life the cultivation that\\nmight be given to it by thy genius.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0091.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "78 A New Study of\\nThen the poet tells his friend why he is to\\nact immediately and without delay.\\nSon. 5. That lapse of the hours which has gently\\nframed thy form, on which all men gaze in admiration,\\nwill soon turn tyrant to it, and reduce to ugliness\\nthe beauty which is now so superlative. Time never\\nrests, as we see it leading summer on to hideous winter\\nwhere it is destroyed. The flow of sap is checked by\\nfrost, the lively leaves wither, the fair landscape is\\nsnowed under, and bareness reigns everywhere. If,\\nthen, there has been no distillation of the growths of\\nsummer, A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,\\nbeauty will be bereft of its effects, and neither it nor\\nany remembrance of it remain. But flowers, when they\\nare distilled, although they should encounter the severi-\\nties of winter, lose only their appearance, while they\\nsurvive in substance.\\nIn this sonnet and the following the process\\nof distillation, by which the dead matter of\\nflowers, etc., is converted into fine odors and\\nessences, is used as a figure or symbol of the\\nmanner in which art lifts any object or aspect\\nof nature into a higher form. It is also used\\nin several of the plays, as in As You Like It\\n(iii., 2, 134), where it is said that all the graces\\nof nature\u00e2\u0080\u0094 Helen s cheek, Cleopatra s majesty,\\nAtalanta s better part, and Lucretia s modesty\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2The Quarto has, But if thou live, remembered not to be,\\nwhich seems to be contradictory, and live is probably a misprint\\nfor list. Sonnet 58 has, Be vi^here you list.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0092.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 79\\nhave been distilled into the one body of\\nRosalind. So in Troilus and Cressida (i., 3,\\n350), Nestor remarks that the man who is\\nto go forth and meet Hector must be a man\\ndistilled from all our virtues again in Henry\\nV, (iv., I, 5), where Henry observes that there\\nis a soul of goodness in things evil, would men\\nobservingly distil it out, and Jonson used\\nthe same figure in The Poetaster of Shake-\\nspeare s own writings, as distilled from\\nhis judgment. There is fitness, if not felicity,\\nin the image when applied to the creative\\nfaculty which turns the rudest material into\\nforms of beauty but when it is pushed a little\\nfarther, as in the Midsummer Night s Dream\\n(i., I, 76), and procreation itself is characterized\\nby the term, it seems to me, though remotely\\npertinent, to be carried to an extreme.\\nThe poet continues\\nSon. 6. Do not then allow the rugged hand of winter\\nto invade thy summer before its products shall have\\nbeen distilled or made the most of. Make sweet some\\nrecipient, enrich some theme with the treasure of thy\\nbeauty, before that beauty shall be self-killed. It is not\\na forbidden usury which prospers those who are willing\\nto accept the loan. Create another self, or, ten times\\nbetter, create ten in the place of one. Ten reproduc-\\ntions of thyself would be ten times more desirable than\\nThe Quarto has ragged hand, meaning rugged.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0093.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "8o A New Study of\\nthyself alone, if the ten refigured thee for in that event\\nwhat could death itself do, if thou shouldst depart and\\nleave thyself living in such a progeny Do not be ob-\\nstinate, therefore, as thou art altogether too fair to be-\\ncome a conquest of the grave and make the worms thine\\nonly heirs.\\nSon. 2, When forty such winters shall besiege thy\\nbrow, and dig deep trenches in that field of beauty, the\\nproud livery of youth, which is looked upon with so\\nmuch rapture now, will be a tattered garment, held in no\\nesteem.* Then, if thou shouldst be asked what has be-\\ncome of thy beauty, and where the rich accomplishments\\nof former days are gone, to reply that they are to be\\nfound within thy deep-sunken eyes would be a blasting\\nshame and a self-praise utterly meaningless. How much\\nhigher praise would the proper use of thy beauty deserve\\nif thou couldst answer, This fair child of mine, proving\\nhis beauty as my successor, discharges my debt, and is\\na complete defence. Moreover, in this wise, thou\\nwouldst be new made when thou art old, and see thy\\nblood warmly flowing even after it had grown cold.\\nBy child of mine the author means the\\noffspring- of the mind, not an infrequent figure\\nwith him. In Sonnet No. j he describes his\\nwritings as children nursed in his brain\\nand brought into life by his pen. Jonson,\\nIt will be seen in this sonnet that Shakespeare, as others in his\\ntime, considered a man old when he was but forty years of age his\\nbrow strongly wrinkled, his eyes deep-sunken, his blood\\ncold, and his general appearance that of a worn-out garment, of\\nno further worth.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0094.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 8i\\nreferring to Shakespeare himself, in the fa-\\nmous preface to the FoHo of 1623, uses the\\nsame figures\\nLook, how the father s face\\nLives in his issue Even so the race\\nOf Shakespeare s mind and manner brightly shines\\nIn his well-turned and true filed lines.\\nJonson, in The Poetaster, also makes every\\nsyllable Shakespeare writ, the issue of his\\nself.\\nSo7i. ij. Oh, that you were master of yourself and\\nknew that you are your own only so long as this present\\nlife continues.^ Therefore it is I conjure you to prepare\\nfor the coming end, by the reproduction of your sem-\\nblance in some worthy form. In that way, the Beauty\\nyou hold as a lease will never come to an end, but, after\\nyour decease, you will live again in one that bears the\\nimpress of your genius. Who but a fool would allow\\nso fair a house as that in which you dwell to fall into\\ndecay, when a little honorable husbandry might pre-\\nserve it against the strongest gusts of winter, and even\\nagainst the eternal cold of death None, none, but a\\nreckless spendthrift. Ah, my dear friend, as you had a\\nfather (or predecessor) let your son (or successor) say\\nthe same.\\nIrving s edition (vol. viii., p. 435) construes this as Oh, that\\nyou were Absolute, Independent of time, Free from the conditions\\nthat fetter men, which seems to me just the reverse of what the\\npoet wishes, i. e., that his friend should know his dependence upon\\nhis conditions.\\n6", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0095.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "82 A Nev/ Study of\\nNext the poet asks his friend If It be from\\nfear of failure In his attempts to marry his\\ngenius to Mother Nature, that he persists in his\\nsingle life or isolated inactivity. If so, it is\\nfoolish, for the cases are not analogous.\\nSon. g. Is it the fear of wetting a widow s eye, as in\\nan ordinary marriage, that thou dost persist in thy fruit-\\nless isolation Ah that would be foolish, indeed, and\\na mistake of the position for, if thou shouldst happen\\nto depart without issue, it is the world and not a\\nmate that would wail thy loss. The whole world is thy\\nwidow, and will ever weep that thou hast left no form of\\nthee behind, when every private widow may see her\\nhusband s shape in her children. Mark, what a do-\\nnothing spends in the world merely changes its place,\\nand the world continues to enjoy it but the waste of\\nbeauty is final. If not expressed, it is destroyed. There\\nis, therefore, no love in that bosom which commits such\\na shameful murder on itself as that which thou dost\\ncommit.\\nSon. II. As fast as thou shalt wane in thine own\\nperson, just so fast shalt thou grow in one of thy pro-\\nductions, and grow away, too, from the narrow point of\\nSingle life is used commonly as the antithesis of married life,\\nbut it is also often used for one, individual, or alone, as\\nwhen we speak of a single combat, a single effort, a single kiss, a\\nsingle verse, or a single sorrow. All single and alone, says Timon,\\nyet an arch-villain, keeps him company (v., I, no). Thy sin-\\ngle and peculiar life is bound, etc. {Hamlet, iii., 3, 11). Now,\\nClifford, I have singled thee alone (III. Hy. VI., ii., 4, i). So\\nhath my lord dared him to single fight [Ant. and Cleo., iii., 7,\\n31).", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0096.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 83\\ndeparture. The fresh vigor that thou hast expended\\nshall still be thine when thou shalt have passed beyond\\nthy youth. In this direction lie beauty, v/isdom, and\\nincrease, while in the opposite are folly, old age, and\\nannihilation. If all men were so minded as not to care\\nfor the future, the times that are would cease, and, in a\\nfew years, civilization itself come to an end. Let those\\nthen whom Nature has not destined to a grand fruition\\n(harsh, featureless, and rude as they are) perish in their\\nbarrenness but thou hast been more richly endowed\\nthan even the best, and thou shouldst acknowledge the\\nbounteous gift with a corresponding bounty. Nature,\\nindeed, has carved thee out as one of her models, with\\nthe intention that thou shouldst multiply and diffuse\\ncopies of thee before the original be lost.\\nEven the great sun itself loses its wor-\\nshippers after it has passed its meridian glory\\nSon. 7. Lo when the Sun lifts his resplendent head\\nin the east, how every eye below doth homage to his as-\\ncending majesty when he has climbed the steep-up\\nheavenly hill, like a strong youth in middle age, adoring\\nlooks still follow his golden pilgrimage but when,\\nhaving attained his highest pitch, his weary car reels\\ndownwards (like feeble age that totters to its fall), the\\neyes that were before faithful turn aside, and look else-\\nwhere for another day. So thou, when thou hast got\\nDowden quotes Ro7neo and yiiliet (ii., 3, 3), and flecked dark-\\nness, like a drunkard, reels forth from day s path, which is a\\nnatural image but to suppose that the sun itself, the cause of\\nday, should reel from the day, is absurd. There has been an in-\\nterchange of the last words of lines 10 and 12 day ^.n^L way\\nwhich, rectified, restores the sense.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0097.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "84 A New Study of\\nbeyond thy noon, wilt die unnoticed unless thou art\\nfollowed by another sun.\\nFinally, there is one consideration of para-\\nmount importance, the necessity of harmo-\\nnizing the mental powers among themselves,\\nand in reference to the environment.\\nSon. 8. Musical as thou art, when thy speech is\\nheard, why should thou listen to other music with ap-\\nparent sadness Sweet does not war with sweet, and\\njoy delights in joy then how canst thou love that\\nwhich thou receivest not gladly, or how receive with\\npleasure that which in reality is an annoyance If the\\nconcord of well-attuned sounds sounds married one\\nto the other by a proper adjustment offends thine\\near, it must be because it is a rebuke to thee for\\nwasting, in single indifference, the endowments which\\nwould enable thee to bear a part in the general harmony.\\nMark how one strain,^ the sweet support and further-\\nance of another, melts into the whole, resembling a\\nhappy family of sire, mother, and child, who sing their\\npleasing notes in unison Their song, though without\\nwords, shows that while in reality they are several, in\\nIt can scarcely be doubted that Shakespeare, in the last line here,\\nhas been guilty of the bad taste of punning on the word son as he\\ntells his friend that as the sun begets another sun, he ought also to\\nbeget a son. Yet what he means is clear, that as the sun loses\\nits worshippers when it sets, so he will lose his admirers unless he\\nbe succeeded, after death, by a son, that is, some product of his\\ngenius.\\nThe Quarto has string, but, as the music is supposed to be\\nvocal, I regard it as a misprint for strain.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0098.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 85\\neffect they are but one. This should remind thee that\\nacting by thyself alone thou art of no effect, and in\\ntruth a nobody.\\nUp to this point, or to the close of the thir-\\nteenth sonnet, the poet has pointed at many\\nillustrations of the decay and renovation which\\npervade both external and human nature.\\nBut he has expressed little of the kind of ren-\\novation which is produced in the realm of art\\nor poetry. In the four following sonnets,\\ntherefore (or in Nos. 15, 16, 17, and 14), he\\nbecomes more explicit, and, after recapitulating\\nwhat he had said in Sonnet 12, (but with spe-\\ncial reference to man,) declares openly that our\\nfuture life is constituted and preserved by\\nVerse. We live only in our works or in our\\nfame.^\\nI am disposed to think that Shakespeare, like many of the ad-\\nvanced minds of the later Renaissance, accepted the belief that our\\nfuture life was here on earth, and not in another world. It was an\\ninheritance from the Hebrev/ Scriptures, which taught nothing of a\\nlife beyond the grave, and from the Greek poets, who, like Moschus,\\nheld that death was an eternal slumber. Partly, also, it was a reac-\\ntion against the dogmas of the Church which tui-ned life on earth,\\ndespite its sunshine and its smiles, into a Sahara of sighs, and sobs,\\nand tears. Compare Skepticism of the Italian Renaissance, by John\\nOwen New York, The Macmillan Co., 1893 and The Civilization\\nof the Renaissance in Italy, by Jacob Burckhardt Swan, Sonnen-\\nschein Co., London, 1892.\\nA similar belief has been celebrated in quite recent times in a poem", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0099.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "86 A New Study of\\nSon. i^. When I consider that every growing thing\\nmaintains its perfection but for a minute, that this huge\\nstage of the world exhibits nothing but shows (phenom-\\nena, we now call them), on which the remote and silent\\nstars may have some influence when I perceive that Men\\nthemselves flourish only as the plants do, cheered on or\\nchecked by the self-same skyey influences, who flaunt in\\ntheir youthful day, yet decreasing after a while, and then\\nfinally wear their bravest states even out of memory\\nthen the conception of this inconstancy of stay reminds\\nme of your wealth of youth, and how wasteful Time, in\\nearnest rivalry with decay, itself, labors to reduce its\\nfresh and brilliant day into the depths of the sullied\\nnight. But, being in love with you, and at war with this\\nodious enemy, I strive to repair this damage by my pen,\\nand, as he takes from you, to engraft you anew, or to re-\\nstore the attributes which have been destroyed/\\nBut the poet goes on to ask his friend, who\\nwhich resolves our future life into an identity with that of The\\nChoir Invisible, or\\nWith those immortal dead who live again\\nIn minds made better by their presence live\\nIn pulses stirred to generosity,\\nIn deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn\\nFor miserable aims that end with self.\\nIn thoughts sublime, that pierce the night like stars,\\nAnd in their mild persistence urge man s search\\nTo vaster issues.\\nI do not find that any of the critics who hold to the marriage\\ntheory of these sonnets has been able to work this sonnet into\\nhis scheme. Dowden is wisely silent, Rolfe, of course, the same,\\nand Irving s able editor runs away. None the less the assertion of\\nthe Poet is positive and clear Whatever Time may do, he says to\\nhis friend, my Verse shall defeat, and so repair every damage.\\nThe Lege7id of Jubal and Other Poems, by George Eliot, 1874.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0100.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 87\\nis so abundantly able to defend himself, why\\nhe does not make use of his own faculties in\\nthe battle. He writes\\nSon. 16. Wherefore do not you yourself make war\\nupon this destructive tyrant, Time in a more effec-\\ntive way than I can, and fortify yourself, even in the\\nmidst of your decay, by means more fruitful than my\\nbarren rhymes At this moment you stand on the top\\nof happy hours, or in the forefront of favorable oppor-\\ntunities, when many a maiden subject as yet untouched,\\nwhich would willingly bear you imperishable flowers,\\nflowers more like yourself than any painted picture\\nor external description could ever be. No existing pen-\\ncil, nor my pupil pen, can cause you to live in the eyes\\nof mankind, either as to your outward beauty or your\\ninward graces, as you are, and it is only by your own\\neffort that you will yourself again really live [give away\\nyourself, that is, incorporating your spirit in some work\\nof art], and you will preserve yourself in it, drawn by\\nyour own sweet skill.\\nSon. 77. What, indeed, will future ages care about\\nmy verse, even if it were filled with descriptions of your\\nhigh deserts (and not be a tomb in which they are hid-\\nden or only half shown). If I could really describe the\\nbeauty of your looks, or tell in adequate numbers of all\\nyour graces, the age to come would simply say this poet\\nlies such heavenly characteristics are seldom seen in\\nearthly persons. My papers, yellowed with age, would\\nbe scorned, like the chatter of an old man, more\\nThe Quarto has, This, Time s pencil, which I can only trans-\\nlate as above.\\nHow inapplicable this word skill is to the accepted theory", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0101.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "88 A New Study of\\ngarrulous than truthful, and your real, rightful worth\\nbe regarded as the overstrained metre of an antique\\nsong. But if some child of your own brain should\\nexist at that time you should have a twofold immor-\\ntality in it, as in my rhyme.\\nSon. 14. But why do I dwell on all this Certainly\\nnot because I pluck my judgment from the stars. Al-\\nthough I have a smattering of astronomy, it is not suffi-\\ncient to enable me to foretell great public events, eijher\\nfor good or evil, like plagues or deaths, or the qualities\\nof the seasons. I cannot appropriate to each person his\\nshare of what is about to befall, nor inform princes how\\nit is going with them by aught that I may find predicted\\nin the sky. No I derive what I say from the observation\\nof those constant stars, thine eyes (those telltales of\\nthe soul), and I read in them this truth: That if thou\\nturnest thyself from thy mere self in order to add to\\nnature s store, thy truth and beauty will thrive together,\\notherwise if thou dost persist in thy solitary course)\\nI may safely prognosticate that both thy truth and thy\\nbeauty will meet their date and doom. They will per-\\nish alike and thou shalt be heard of no more.\\nThis is all I have to say of these sonnets,\\nwhich, whether my construction of them be\\nright or wrong, stand by themselves, and da.\\nnot affect the others. I will add, however,\\nThere would seem to be a contradiction between the first part of\\nthis sonnet, where the poet depreciates his poetic power, and the\\nlast, where he boasts of it but it should be remarked that in the\\nfirst part he merely deplores the inadequacy of his pen to the par-\\nticular subject, but not its general power as a means of conferring\\nimmortal fame.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0102.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeaf e 89\\nthat when I read them first in the Hteral sense\\nthe critics accept, and then in the figurative\\nsense I have tried to explain, they leave upon\\nme widely diverse impressions. In the former\\nsense they seem trivial and without interest,\\nand, though they are Shakespeare s, scarcely\\nworth a second perusal. The marriage of an\\nunknown young man, three hundred years ago,\\ndoes not stir the blood to any pitch of excite-\\nment, but when I read them in the latter sense,\\nthey are lifted into a generality of meaning in\\nwhich they become at least edifying and in- v\\nstructive. What the poet enforces has the v\\nsame value now that it, had then, and a value S\\nwhich will continue so long as he continues to\\nbe the poet par excellence. i\\nIV. A YOUNG LOVE-TIME.\\nNo intelligent scholar who should happen\\nto fall upon a sonnet like that I am about to\\ncite, without knowing the authorship of it,\\nwould hesitate for a moment as to its personal\\nmeaning, supposing it to have a personal\\nmeaning. The sonnet says\\nSon. 25. Let those who live under favorable stars\\nboast of their public honors and their proud titles, if\\nthey like, but I, whom fortune deprives of such distinc-\\ntions, leaving me wholly unknown, none the less rejoice in", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0103.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "90 A New Study of\\nthat which I honor at the same time. The favorites of\\ngreat princes, who spread their fair leaves like the mari-\\ngold only in the sunshine, can have no respect for them-\\nselves, when at the mere whim of another they must\\nperish in the midst of their glory. So painstaking war-\\nriors, made famous by their military prowess, if once\\ndefeated after their many victories, drop from the rolls\\nof fame and their great achievements are forgotten.\\nHow happy then should I be, who love and am beloved,\\nwith an affection that on neither side will ever decay.\\nTwo things are at once manifest in reading\\nthis poem the first is that the author of it was\\na person of lowly and obscure condition and\\nthe second, that he enjoyed a reciprocated\\nlove which was an ample solace for his other\\ndeprivations. His ode was not a complaint\\nagainst adverse fortune, as Professor Dowden\\nstrangely remarks, but just the reverse, a self-\\ncongratulation on a low estate, which ex-\\nempted him from the vicissitudes that are apt\\nto fall upon those more highly favored, while\\nit enabled him to delight in an immutable affec-\\ntion. He does not, he says, hold his happiness\\nlike the recipients of court favor at the caprice\\nof another, nor does it depend like the fame\\nof a warrior upon an accident it is assured\\nand permanent.\\nIt is rendered antecedently probable, by what\\nI have said before as to how much of the sonnet", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0104.jp2"}, "105": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 91\\nwriting of that day related to women, that\\nthis beloved object was a woman. Other\\nobjects, the virtues of patrons and the high\\nqualities of personal friends, or abstract con-\\nceptions of religion and philosophy, had their\\ndevotees but women as the inspirers of real\\nor fictitious passion far outnumbered all others.^\\nShakespeare was, more than any poet of his\\nage, and we may say of any age, susceptible to\\nthe female charm his poems and plays alike\\noverflow with the love sentiment and there-\\nfore I assume that the love of this sonnet was\\nthe love of a woman. Or take another one\\nnearby. No. 21, as an example.\\nSo7i. 21. It is not with my Muse as it is with that of\\nothers who are moved to make verses by an artificial\\nbeauty and who consequently ransack the very heavens\\nfor epithets to raise their fair one to a level with all\\nother fairs. They bring together a couplement or\\nmass of ambitious comparisons with the sun or moon, with\\nthe earth, with the rich gems of the sea, with the first-\\nborn flowers of April, and, in fact, with everything rare\\nthat is hemmed in by the huge rondure of the skies but\\nI do not do so I love truly and therefore I write truly,\\nMain, in his Treasury of English Sonnets (p. 283), refers to col-\\nlections by Spenser, Sidney, Constable, Daniel, Barnes, and many\\nothers, of which the several titles, Asirophel and Stella, Delia,\\nDiana, Phillis, Ccelia, Licia, Diella, Fidessa, Chlo7 is, etc., pro-\\nclaim their characters. They were all of them more or less taken\\nup with women either real or ideal.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0105.jp2"}, "106": {"fulltext": "92 A New Study of\\nor without resorting to fantastic exaggerations and you\\nthat read me may honestly believe that the object of\\nmy love, though hot as brilliant, perhaps, as the golden\\ncandlesticks of the heaven, is yet as fair as any mother s\\nchild. Let those whose likings are founded upon com-\\nmon repute say more, if they will, but I am not a chap-\\nman in the market who extols his wares for mere effect.\\nI am writing honestly of what I know, and not from what\\nI choose to invent.\\nCan we doubt that the poet was here writing\\nof a woman No poet then or since, writing of\\nmen, ever indulged in the extravagance of dic-\\ntion which Shakespeare disclaims. They never\\nmade suns, or moons, or gems, or flowers, of\\nthe masculine gender they only praised their\\nnobler and general qualities in sober if exalted\\nterms but when they sang of women they lav-\\nished upon the darlings all the bright and beauti-\\nful images they could bring together, extending\\ntheir adoration to every part of the person to\\neyes, lips, ears, hair, teeth, and cheeks, and they\\nwould have included even the little toes, if those\\nsacred appendages had ever been exposed by\\nany mischance to profane masculine vision.^\\nConstable furnishes a good specimen of this sort of rapture in\\nhis Diana, where he says\\nMy lady s presence made the roses red,\\nBecause to see her lips they blushed for shame,\\nThe lily-leaves for envy pale became,\\nAnd her white hands this envy in them bred", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0106.jp2"}, "107": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 93\\nFurther on the poet continues his disclaim-\\ners. He says\\nSo7i. 130, The eyes of my mistress are not like the\\nsun, nor are her lips as red as coral if snow be white,\\nher breasts are dun, and if hairs may be called wires,\\nsuch wires grow on her head.* I have seen roses, red,\\nwhite, and damask, but no such roses bloom on her\\ncheeks and in some perfumes there is a more delightful\\nfragrance than in her breath. I love to hear her speak, yet\\nI know that there are strains of music sweeter than the\\nsounds she makes; and though I have never seen a\\ngoddess walk, I have no doubt there are goddesses who\\ncould tread the ground with more grace and yet, by\\nheaven I swear she is just as handsome as any other\\nshe who is belied by the false comparisons in vogue.\\nA sonnet Hke this could not have been ad-\\ndressed to a lady of rank, or in high society,\\nbecause such ladies were accustomed to a very\\ndifferent style, and would have been offended\\nThe marigold its leaves about doth spread,\\nBecause the Sun s and her power is the same,\\nThe violet of purple color came,\\nDyed in the blood she made my heart to shed.\\nIn brief, all flowers from her their virtue take.\\nFrom her sweet breath their sweet smells do proceed.\\nThe practice of Elizabethan poets, in comparing women s hair\\nto wire, owing perhaps to something peculiar in the coiiTure, is in-\\nconceivable to us, but it was quite common. Mr. Irving s editor,\\nwho, by the way, detects the connection between the 130th and the\\n26th sonnets, cites examples of this figure from Spenser, from Daniel,\\nfrom Peele s Praise of Chastity in the English Helicon, from Hero\\nand Leander, and from other sources.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0107.jp2"}, "108": {"fulltext": "94 A New Study of\\nby Its qualified and negative praise. It might,\\nhowever, very well have been addressed to a\\nperson in the poet s own condition, to whom\\nhe pays the greater honor by disclaiming for\\nher those artificial compliments which seem to\\nhave been needed by the others. You, my\\ndarling, he says, are altogether more lovely\\nthan any of those whose charms require to\\nbe painted or bolstered up by such ridiculous\\ninflations.\\nInterpreting these three sonnets as ad-\\ndressed by a rustic lover to his rustic sweet-\\nheart, may we not conclude from the little we\\nknow of the poet s real life, and not from\\nguesses in the void, that if they related to any\\nperson in particular it must have been to Anne\\nHathaway, then or soon to become his wife\\nUnless the poet was already a gay Lothario\\nof the fields we have no right to connect them\\nwith any other woman while, connecting them\\nwith her, we open the way to a series of real\\nlove poems which are among the most tender\\nand touching to be found in our literature.\\nPoor Anne has suffered badly at the hands\\nof the critics, and especially those of our coun-\\ntryman, Mr. Richard Grant White, who pur-\\nsues her with an almost personal spite and yet\\nhe has no better reason for it, that I can see,", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0108.jp2"}, "109": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 95\\nthan Shakespeare s disparagement in some of\\nhis plays, of alHances, misgrafted in respect\\nof years. Because the Duke, in Twelfth\\nNight, says, Let still the woman take an\\nelder than herself so wears she to him, so\\nsways she level on her husband s heart, it is\\ninferred that Shakespeare thought the same,\\nderiving his opinion, not from a general ob-\\nservation of life, but from his own individual\\nexperience. It is, however, an extremely haz-\\nardous method of getting at a dramatist s con-\\nviction, to impute to him as his own what he puts\\nin the mouths of particular persons in particu-\\nlar situations. As well say that Shakespeare\\nheld and approved of all the queer sallies of\\nFalstaff, or Sir Toby, or Parolles, as that he\\ncoincided with the Duke in his utterances\\nabout the importance of equality of age in mar-\\nried couples. Even if he did, it did not pre-\\nvent him afterwards from approving the mar-\\nriage of his daughter to one about as much\\nyounger than herself as he was younger than\\nAnne.\\nBecause Anne was the daughter of a yeo-\\nman, and not of one of the gentry because she\\nwas some six or seven years older than her\\nswain, because their marriage was secret and\\nhurried and because after two or three years", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0109.jp2"}, "110": {"fulltext": "96 A New Study of\\nof cohabitation the husband went off to Lon-\\ndon to Hve there for a long time, it has been\\ntaken for granted that Anne was some coarse\\ncountry wench who inveigled him into a pre-\\nmature marriage, of which, he soon repented,\\nand then left her for life. /There is not a par-\\nticle of historic evidence for this conclusion\\nOn the other hand, there is some evidence that\\nhe visited her, once a year at least, which was\\nas often, doubtless, as the state of travel ren-\\ndered practicable then while he may have had\\nother opportunities for seeing her in the occa-\\nsional tours of his theatrical company through\\nthe provinces. Be that as it may, we know\\nthat in London he lived frugally and worked\\nhard, that his first earnings were devoted to\\nbuying for Anne and the children the best\\nhouse in the best street of his native village\\nand that when he had gotten together a com-\\npetency, he returned to Stratford to live with\\nthem for the rest of his days and he did so\\nwhen there were the strongest reasons why he\\nshould remain in London and not return to\\nStratford. He was highly esteemed and pros-\\nperous in London, surrounded by friends, many\\nof them of great distinction his plays were\\nthe leading entertainment in Court circles in\\none month, May, 16 13, at the wedding of the", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0110.jp2"}, "111": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 97\\nPrincess Elizabeth, no less than seven of them\\nwere given at Whitehall Henry IV., Merry\\nWives, Jtdius Ct^sar, Othello, Mtich Ado, The\\nWinter s Tale, and The Tempest, the latter a\\nfresh production.^\\nOn the other hand, a great change of opin-\\nion had taken place at Stratford, in the inter-\\nval of his absences. In his youth, when his\\nfather was the principal magistrate of the town,\\ntheatrical entertainments were frequent and in\\ngood repute but twenty years afterwards, at\\nthe time of his return the more fanatical Puri-\\ntans had got possession of the place and\\nforbidden them under heavy penalties. War-\\nwickshire had become the centre of the anti-\\ntheatrical crusade and two of its most\\npowerful preachers thundered away from their\\npulpits against the stage and all its upholders.\\nYet in the face of this obloquy the poet\\nreturned thither to sojourn with his family.\\nIt was then and there, too, we have every rea-\\nson to believe, that he wrote those tender\\nromances. The Winter s Tale, Cymbeline, and\\nThe Tempest, which are all so suffused with\\na gentle sunset glow of serene and kindly\\naffection.\\nAs I view it, the historic probabilities, so far\\n1 Halliwell-Phillipps, ii., 87.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0111.jp2"}, "112": {"fulltext": "98 A New Study of\\nfrom confirming the Inferences of Mn White\\nand others, would rather show that the woman\\nof Shakespeare s first love was worthy of his\\naffection. At that time the Influence of the\\nRenaissance or revival of learning had not yet\\nspent its force. Men, we know, in their eager-\\nness for knowledge would sell the coats off\\ntheir backs and go without food to get a\\nglimpse of a printed book or of a rare man-\\nuscript. Ladies in high station prosecuted\\nlearning with an irrepressible zeal Queen\\nElizabeth spoke and read the ancient as well\\nas the modern languages, and when she went\\ndown to the universities could answer the ad-\\ndresses of the learned dons in Greek or Latin\\nas she pleased. Her rival, Mary, Queen of\\nScots, surrounded herself by learned men, was\\nfamiliar with French literature and herself\\nwrote French poems and Lady Jane Grey\\nwas not only the favorite but the foremost\\npupil of Roger Ascham, the greatest teacher of\\nhis time. Among ladies of the middle classes,\\nas we read in private Memoirs, the pursuit of\\nknowledge was indefatigable, while the same\\navidity marked to some extent the inferior\\nsocial classes. I read the other day an account\\nof a young Italian woman, of the middle ranks,\\nwho at that time made herself so complete a", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0112.jp2"}, "113": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 99\\nmistress of the Greek that she was able to\\nlecture on Greek Literature in the Greek lan-\\nguage at various universities.^ Anne Hatha-\\nway was not, perhaps, of this select sort she\\nwas a simple rustic maiden, but as such not ne-\\ncessarily ignorant or unread nor wholly indiffer-\\nent to the accomplishments of her boyish lover.\\nWe should offend no actual history or authentic\\ntradition if we should suppose her to have been\\nthe beloved of the earlier sonnets. If she\\nwas not the model of Perdita, the prettiest\\nlow-born lass that ever ran on the greensward,\\nshe might easily have been the original sweet\\nAnne Page, simple, modest, amiable, and of\\ncharm enough, aside from her father s fortune,\\nto attract three or four suitors at once, and of\\nspirit enough to run away with one of them\\nwithout getting her parents consent. Then,\\nagain, as she was older than her boy husband,\\nshe might, instead of repelling him, ultimately\\nhave exercised over his eager and impetuous 1\\nimpulses a salutary control, as quiet and gen- j\\ntie as that of a summer s day. Does he not\\nintimate as much when he writes On c: Ji\\nSon. 18. Shall I compare thee to a summer s day?\\nThou art more lovely and more temperate [that is,\\nmore equal]: rough winds do shake the darling buds of\\nThis was in LittelVs Living Age, but I have mislaid the reference.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0113.jp2"}, "114": {"fulltext": "loo A New Study of\\nMay, and summer s lease hath all too short a date.\\nSometimes the eye of heaven is too hot, while at others\\nits gold complexion is dimmed, and every fair thing\\noften loses its fairness. But thy summer is the summer\\nof love, which is perennial and does not fade. Besides,\\nand here the enthusiastic and self-confident poet breaks\\nout Death shall never be able to boast that thou wan-\\nderest in his shade, because I have put thee in my verses,\\ndestined to endure as long as men can breathe, or age\\ncan see, and thou shalt live in them\\nAs the lad repeated these Hnes to the girl,\\neither at Shottery, her home, or in his father s\\nhouse, she, if she was the woman I take her to\\nhave been, threw her arms about him and gave\\nhim some hearty kisses, exclaiming, Oh, Wil-\\nlie, boy if ever there was a poet you are one\\nbut, alas, you make too much of my good looks,\\nfor remember that I am older than you are,\\nand beauty is a thing that soon decays.\\nDoes it? he reflected, as he went away\\nthoughtfully, and the next time they were\\nalone he gave her his version of that question.\\nSon. 104. Dear friend, to me you never can be old,\\nbecause your beauty is the same as it was when first I\\nlooked into your eyes/ The cold of three winters [they\\nhad been intimate, perhaps married, for three years, it\\nwould seem] has shaken the leaves from the forests\\nthree beauteous springs have turned to yellow autumn in\\nThe Quarto reads, When first your eye I eyed.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0114.jp2"}, "115": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare loi\\nthe process of the seasons and I have seen the perfume\\nof three Aprils burned away by three hot Junes since\\nfirst I saw thee fresh who art still the same. No doubt\\nthat what you said is true beauty, like the hand on a\\ndial, may steal unperceived from figure to figure, and\\nyour sweet form, which methinks unchanged, may have\\nmotion in it, and my eyes be deceived in fear of which,\\nhear this Though age is rude, was the summer of love\\ndead ere you were born\\nThe poet then averred that he himself would\\nshare in this happy exemption of love.\\nSo7i. 22. Nor shall my own glass ever persuade me\\nthat I am old, so long as youth and thou, as we have just\\nseen, are of one date. But when I shall behold the fur-\\nrows of time in thy face, I shall hope that death may put\\nan end to my days, because the beauty with which thou\\nart endowed is but the seemly raiment of my own heart,\\nwhich lives in thy breast, as thy heart lives in mine.\\nHow can I ever be older than thou art And, therefore,\\nlove, be wary for thyself as I will be, not for myself, but\\nfor thee, bearing thy heart as tenderly as a nurse does\\nher baby nor presume upon thy affections, when mine\\nare gone, as thou gavest me thyself never to give back\\nagain.\\nOf course, when that was read the osculatory\\nprocesses were resumed, but the time for such\\ndalliances was soon to end. Shakespeare was\\nliving with his father, a yeoman and a mer-\\nchant as well, in whose business he assisted,", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0115.jp2"}, "116": {"fulltext": "I02 A New Study of\\ngiving an hour also, as he could, to the study\\nof law/ But that business, it is generally ad-\\nmitted by the commentators, had fallen off of\\nlate, and was no longer adequate to the needs\\nof a double family. Accordingly, he deter-\\nmined to go away to try his fortunes in the\\ngreat world. A tradition, heard of a hundred\\nyears later, gives out that he was driven away\\nby threats of prosecution for deer-stealing, to\\nwhich the more sportive youths even of the\\ncolleges and law schools were addicted. One\\nwishes the story were true, if for no other rea-\\nson than to justify Landor s fine bit of writing\\nin the Citation and Examination of William\\nShakespeare. It was, however, more likely,\\nif Shakespeare was driven from home by ex-\\nternal conditions, and not by his own nascent\\ndesire to mingle in the crowds of the metropo-\\nlis, that he was influenced by the growing re-\\nligious troubles of the time. His father, a\\nstaunch Puritan,^ had passed into non-confor-\\nmity, which, under the severe laws of the\\nChurch, exposed him to danger. This was\\nnot wholly approved of by his son, who, as a\\nA mere conjecture, however.\\n^Landor s Works, vol. ii., pp. 455-557.\\nSee Shakespeare, Puritan and Recusant, by Rev. T. Carter,\\nLondon, 1897.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0116.jp2"}, "117": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 103\\nchild of the Renaissance, cared for none of the\\ncreeds.^\\nHow could he help turning his face toward\\nthe great city, which was the seat of govern-\\nment and the centre of literature and the arts\\nMost of the aspiring young men of the time\\nwent thither for employment or a career, but it\\nwas only natural that he should be very much\\ndepressed by the necessity of leaving his dear\\nones, amid the doubts that hung over his future\\nin a new untried sphere. He even seems to\\nhave feared whether he should ever return,\\nand in this dark mood he wrote a sort of fare-\\nwell to his wife, apparently more solicitous\\nabout the life of his poetry than his own life.\\nSon. J2. If thou survive the day, with which I am\\nstill contented, when cruel Death shall cover my bones\\nwith dust and, by some good hap, read again the poor\\nrude lines of thy lover who is gone, compare them\\nwith the better efforts of the time, and, finding that they\\nare surpassed by every pen, cherish them for my love s\\nsake, and not for their rhymes, which fail to attain the\\nheights of more felicitous writers, oh, then be kind\\nenough to add this loving thought, If my friend s muse\\nhad grown with the advancing age, he would have given\\nme a finer tribute, one capable of taking its place among\\nthe foremost productions, but since he has died, and\\nI am quite convinced that Shakespeare was neither Catholic\\nnor Protestant, but Humanist, though the question cannot be dis-\\ncussed here.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0117.jp2"}, "118": {"fulltext": "I04 A New Study of\\nsuperior poets have arisen, I will read their lays for their\\nstyle, but his for their sweet affection.\\n(2 J The Departure from the Beloved.\\nIn the state of travel, as it existed at that\\ntime, the young adventurer had to set off on\\nhorseback. Macaulay, writing of the roads as\\nthey were a hundred years afterwards, 1668\\ninstead of 1568, describes them as almost im-\\npassable by any vehicle. It took six horses to\\ndrag a cart or a carriage through the mud, and\\na journey from Oxford to London was a mat-\\nter of three or four days.^ From Stratford to\\nLondon it was still longer, and that it was\\nwearisome and slow the poet has told us in a\\nsonnet which he no doubt sent from his first\\nstopping-place, either by post, or by some re-\\nturning merchant. He writes\\nSon. 50. How heavily I get on, when the very repose\\nI seek as a rest from toilsome travel reminds me that I\\nam measuring the miles away from thee Even the\\ndull beast that I bestride plods slowly along, as if he\\ndiscerned by some instinct that his rider, carrying a bur-\\nden of woe, did not care for speed the bloody spur\\nimpatiently thrust into his side provokes only a heavy\\ngroan which is the more sharp as it is so responsive to my\\nown mood, recalling that grief lies before me and my\\njoy behind.\\nHistory of England, vol. i., chap. 13.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0118.jp2"}, "119": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 105\\nThe poet continues\\nSon. J I. Yes, ray love excuses this offence of slowness,\\nbecause I am hasting away from its object. Why should I\\nhurry, when it puts more distance between us What\\nneed of posting until my return, but in that case, what ex-\\ncuse could my poor drudge find, as the extremest swift-\\nness would then be slow Ah, if I were then mounted on\\nthe wind, I should ply the spur, and find no motion in\\nthe speed of wings. Then no horse could keep pace with\\nmy desire, for, being composed entirely of love, it would\\nrequire the assistance of no dull flesh in its fiery race.\\nAs the beast in going from thee went slow, according to\\nmy will, in going towards thee I 11 run, and he may walk\\nif he likes.\\nAt length the traveller, arriving at his desti-\\nnation, and having wandered about to find\\na lodging, is exceedingly tired, and goes to bed\\nin search of rest. But that, as he informs his\\ndistant lady, is not to be found.\\nSon. 2y. Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed to\\nfind the rest that is due to my limbs, tired with travel,\\nbut I have no sooner laid my head upon my pillow than a\\njourney begins which works my mind as the travel had\\nworked my limbs. My thoughts from this far place un-\\ndertake a pilgrimage back to thee, and keep my droop-\\ning eyes open though the darkness is like the darkness of\\nthe blind. None the less, the imaginary flight of my\\nsoul presents thine image to my sightless orbs, like a\\njewel set in the ghastliness of night, making her black-\\nness beautiful and her old, worn-out face as new. Thus\\nThe Quarto reads Go, which meant walk.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0119.jp2"}, "120": {"fulltext": "io6 A New Study of\\nmy body finds no quiet by day and my mind none by\\nnight, intensely absorbed as I am in what concerns us both.\\nSon. 28. Alas if this goes on, how shall I ever be\\nable to return Debarred the benefit of any real rest by\\nthe double oppression of night and day, when, though\\neach is the enemy of the other, they willingly combine to\\ntorment me, the one by the toil it demands and the\\nother by its complaints that I am ever toiling farther off\\nfrom thee. In vain I tell the day, to please him, that\\nthou art a grace to him by thy brightness even when\\nclouds blot the sky, and in vain I flatter the swarthy-\\nhued night by telling him that when the sparkling stars\\ndo not twinkle thou dost still gild the heavens, for the\\ndays only lengthen my grief and the night makes its\\nstrength the stronger.\\nThe poet comforts himself by recurring to a\\nnot unusual fancy. He says\\nSon. 44. If the solid substance of my flesh were\\nthought, no insolent distance should stop my way; for\\nthen, in spite of space, I could be brought in a wink\\nfrom the remotest limits to where thou dost dwell. Even\\nif my foot should stand upon the utmost verge of the\\nearth, my nimble thought would jump both sea and land\\nto be with thee. Alas the thought kills me that I am\\nnot thought and able to leap huge lengths of miles to be\\nwhere thou art but so much of earth and water mingle\\nwith the air and fire of my human constitution that I\\nmust await the leisure of time with my moans, receiving\\nnaught from elements so slow but tears, which are the\\nsigns of our mutual woe.\\nSon. 45 Two of these elements, light air and purify-\\ning fire, are always with thee, wherever I may be the", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0120.jp2"}, "121": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 107\\nfirst representing my thought and the other my desire\\nthey glide about with such swiftness of motion that they\\nmay be said to be always both present and absent. But\\nwhen the quicker elements are gone on a tender embas-\\nsage to thee, my life under the pressure of the other two\\nsinks down to death or the oppression of melancholy,\\nas our natures cannot be remade. Yet when these swift\\nmessengers come back to me, assuring me of thy fair\\nhealth, I joy in the recital, only to be made sad again by\\ntheir departure.*\\nIt was some solace to the exile that he pos-\\nsessed a picture of the absent one, for which\\nhis eyes and his head were both so eager that\\neach one set up an exclusive claim.\\nSon. 46. Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war as to\\nwhich I owe that great conquest the sight of thee! Mine\\neye would bar the heart a look at that picture, and the\\nheart deny the eye any freedom of right thereto. My\\nheart pleads that thou dost lie in him as in a chest never\\npierced by human eye; but the defendant denies that\\nplea and asserts that thou owest him thy fair appearance.\\nTo decide the case a jury of thoughts, which are also\\ntenants of the head, is summoned, and it was determined\\nby their verdict that the eye s share should be the out-\\nward part, and the heart s the inward affection.*\\nBy the possession of this picture the poet\\ngoes on to say\\nThe notion of the Four Elements Is referred to in so many\\nof the plays that it is unnecessary to cite them.\\nThis contest between the heart and the eyes is an old one, and,", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0121.jp2"}, "122": {"fulltext": "io8 A New Study of\\nSon. ^2. I am like a rich man, who holds the key to\\na sweet locked-up treasure. But he does not use it every-\\nday, lest the frequency of the enjoyment should blunt its\\nedge. Feasts are so exceptional in the pleasure they\\ngive, so deeply interesting, because they come so sel-\\ndom in the course of the year, or, like precious stones,\\nor the chief jewels in a coronet, are thinly placed. So\\nTime keeps you in my chest, as the wardrobe in which\\nmy robe is hidden, in order to render some special\\nmoment especially blest by unfolding the imprisoned\\ntreasure. Thus blessed are you whose excellence gives\\nscope being had, to triumph, being lacked, to hope.\\nOur young poet, he was at most but\\ntwenty-two years of age, on his arrival in\\nLondon, though playful at first, soon found\\nhimself lonely and desolate. Anyone who has\\nhad the experience of such a transfer from the\\ncountry to a great city, in which he is friendless\\nand without means, may judge of the depth of\\nthat desolation. It is like being set down in a\\nwilderness, with no help at hand, and no way\\nof exit from its terrors. In his loneliness and\\nlong before Shakespeare, Mapes had written a poem called Dispu-\\ntatio inter Cor et Ocuhim, which was said to be very humorous\\n(Warton, vol. i., p. 162). These sonnets have the tone of youthful-\\nness about them which must strike every reader. It is perhaps\\nworthy of note, too, that one of them is almost wholly expressed in\\nthe terms of a trial at law,\\nAn illustration, which is repeated by Bolingbroke (7. Henry IV.,\\niii., 2, 56) when boasting how he keeps his person fresh and new, he\\nsays My presence like a robe pontifical, ne er seen but wondered\\nat and so my state. Seldom but sumptuous, showed like a feast,\\nAnd wan by rareness such solemnity.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0122.jp2"}, "123": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 109\\nanxiety our poet yearned for his old home, he\\nthinks of old friends, and he laments the time\\nhe has wasted with a sort of despair.\\nSon. JO. When to the sessions of sweet silent thought\\nI summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh over\\nthe want of many a thing I once sought, and wailing for\\nthe waste of opportunities, mine eye, unused to flow, is\\ndrenched in tears by the memory of precious friends\\nnow hidden in death s dateless night I weep afresh the\\nsorrows long since cancelled, and the loss of many a\\nvanished sight, and recall painful grievances foregone.\\nAs I heavily tell over the sad account of former trials, I\\nrepeat the old moans, and yet when I think of thee, dear\\nlove, all losses seem to be compensated, and my sorrows\\ncome to an end.^\\nIn this intense devotion to a single love,\\nthe poet arrives at an exquisite expression of\\nits fulness and concentration. He says\\nSon. 31. Thy bosom becomes the more dear to me as\\nit seems to contain all the hearts that, by wanting, I have\\nsupposed dead. Love reigns there, and all love s tender\\naffinities, together with all the friends I may have thought\\nburied. How many a holy and funeral tear has been\\nstolen from my eyes, as the due of the dead, who were\\nonly removed for a space and now lie in thee as in a\\nsepulchre hung with their trophies. They live again,\\nMain refers, in connection with this tender sonnet, to Ten-\\nnyson s\\nOh for the touch of a vanished hand,\\nAnd the sound of a voice that is still.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0123.jp2"}, "124": {"fulltext": "I lo A New Study of\\nand whatever interest they once excited in me is trans-\\nferred to thee the due of many now is thine alone all\\nthose I loved I behold once more in thee and thou,\\nincluding all of them, art my all in all.\\nIt was in a brighter mood, perhaps the\\nclouds had broken away a little, that he rai-\\nled his beloved on the fact, that while he had\\nbeen so careful, on leaving home, to secure his\\nsmaller treasure, the greatest treasure of all\\nhad been overlooked.\\nSon. 48. How careful was I, ere I left home, to bar\\nup my merest trifles, that they might remain mine, and\\nsafe from all false hands. But thou, to whom the finest\\njewels are as nothing, my dearest comfort and yet ray\\nmost anxious care, the best of all dear things, I left an\\nopen prey for the vulgarest thief to snatch. I had not\\nlocked thee up in a chest, save the gentle closure of my\\nheart, where thou art not, though I know thou art,\\nand mayst depart at any time or even be stolen for, in\\nthe presence of such a tempter, even Truth itself might\\nprove a thief.\\nBethinking himself of what he had said, the\\npoet subjoins that the fears he had intimated\\nwere rather unworthy of him.\\nSon. 116. Do not let me suggest any obstacles to the\\nmarriage of true minds. That is not true love which\\nVenus and Adonis, 782, has the quiet closure of my breast,\\nalso in line 724, we have Rich preys make true men thieves.\\nThe marriage of true minds is peculiarly felicitous if, as we\\nsuppose, the sonnet v^as addressed to the poet s M^ife.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0124.jp2"}, "125": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 1 1 1\\nalters when it finds alteration in the object of it, or tends\\nto fade away with the decline of it in others. No, it\\nis an ever-fixed beacon, which looks on tempests and\\ncannot be shaken or, rather, it is like that star which\\nserves as a guide to every wandering bark, and whose\\ndeeper influences, although its altitude may have been\\nmeasured, are unknown. Love is not a mere sport of\\nTime and noses, lips, and cheeks may fall within the\\nreach of his bending scythe but love is not a subject of\\nbrief hours and weeks it goes forward even to the edge\\nof doom.\\nThen a new thought comes to the poet and\\nhe writes\\nSon. iij. The lines I have written to you before,\\neven those which said I could not love you more dearly,\\nbecause love is unchangeable, are, in one respect, false,\\nfor love does change, it grows. When they were writ-\\nten, my judgment could see no reason why my flame,\\nwhich seemed already at the full, should afterwards burn\\nclearer. But, taking into consideration the influence of\\nTime, which, in a million ways, creeps in between our\\nvows and their fulfilment, which alters the decrees of\\nkings, which dims the sacredest beauty, which arrests\\nthe most fixed resolves and subjects the strongest minds\\nto the changing currents of events, alas, though fearing\\nthese tyrannies of time, why might I not say, Now I love\\nyou best, when I was certain, beyond all uncertainty\\nthe present was assured and all the rest in doubt Love\\nis an infant, to whom we may at any time say, Now\\nCoriolanus (v., 3, 74) says, Like a great sea-mark, standing\\nevery flaw.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0125.jp2"}, "126": {"fulltext": "112 A New Study of\\nyou are at the best, and yet give full growth to that\\nwhich never ceases to grow/\\n(jj Hard Struggles and Despondencies.\\nShakespeare, on his arrival in London, had\\nhis attention drawn to the stage his dramatic\\ninstincts had been awakened, no doubt, by the\\nvisits of stroUing players to his native village,\\nto say nothing of the taste for theatrical enter-\\ntainments which had arisen within a few years,\\nin spite of the opposition of the Puritans. It\\nhad particularly affected the Court, which lent\\nits favors to the new companies of child-play-\\ners lately set up, and the universities, where\\nmany of the ancient classic dramas had been\\nrevived in modern form but that a large num-\\nber of the middle classes were also ready for\\nthem we may infer from the fact that within\\nthe decade preceding Shakespeare s advent,\\nsix or seven new theatres had been constructed\\nThis sonnet is, in some way slightly defective in expression\\nand yet the version of it I present seems to convey, without any con-\\nsiderable change of the words, the meaning of the poet. Professor\\nHenry Reed (Lectures, ii., 253) says that it w^ould be difficult to cite\\na finer passage of moral poetry than these descriptions of the master\\npassion. How true and how ennobling to our nature We at\\nonce recognize in the abstract the conceptions which have found a\\ndwelling-place and a name in the familiar forms of Desdemona,\\nJuliet, Imogen, and Cordelia, those inimitable creations of female\\ncharacter, that have been loved as if they \\\\?ere living beings by\\nthousands.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0126.jp2"}, "127": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 113\\nin the suburbs of the city, thirty or forty writ-\\ners of plays had taken the field, hundreds of\\nnew plays, such as they were, had supplant-\\ned the former mysteries moralities and\\ninterludes. Much of the best literary tal-\\nent of the day aspired to success in the new\\nline. Shakespeare s necessities, if not his\\ntastes, would have led him to the boards. It\\nwas, however, difficult to achieve an entrance\\nthere. One had to show some real aptitude\\nfor the calling, and then serve through a pro-\\ntracted apprenticeship. A tradition reports\\nthat Shakespeare began by holding the horses\\nof the gentry who attended the performances,\\nwhich, though not well supported, is not wholly\\nimprobable. He was without money or friends,\\nand had to do something for a living. Our\\nfirst authentic report of him is, that he was\\nemployed in an inferior capacity, or as a\\nsupe, we now say, either call-boy or mes-\\nsenger, or soldier, one of the mob, or, perhaps,\\nas prompter to the actors. Sooner or later he\\ntook to revising old plays, which brought him\\nin contact with the regular writers, when,\\nevincing no little superiority in the task, they\\ngot to consulting him as to their own efforts.\\nHe even went so far once as to try his hand\\non an old play, which he made his own, or", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0127.jp2"}, "128": {"fulltext": "114 A New Study of\\nlargely his own, named Titus Andronicus. It\\nwas conceived in the worst manner of the\\ntimes, and like the life of Aaron, a principal\\ncharacter, was full of\\nmurders, rapes, and massacres,\\nActs of black night, abominable deeds,\\nComplots of mischief, treason, villanies,\\nRuthful to hear, yet piteously perform d.\\nStrange to say, the play was popular, and en-\\ncouraged the lad to go on in a bad style.\\nHow long he continued to write, or to help\\nothers to write, in this false vein we do not\\nknow. The successes he had achieved in it\\ndoubtless gave him a transient predilection\\nfor it, but his good sense and real dramatic\\ninstinct sooner or later broke the trammels,\\nand he ventured forth in a better line.\\nI find some evidence of his struggle to\\nrelease himself in Sonnet No. 137, in which he\\nwrites\\nSon. 1J7. Thou blindfold love (liking or predilec-\\ntion), what dost thou to mine eyes that they should look,\\nyet see not what they see They know what beauty is,\\nThat this play was mainly Shakespeare s we have the positive at-\\ntestation, first, of Meres, who mentions it by name, and, second, of\\nHeminge and Condell, fellow-actors of his for many years, who in-\\ncluded it in the first Folio and yet many critics express strong\\ndoubts as to its authorship, on no other grounds than its general in-\\nferiority to his other works. But Verplanck and White have, in my\\nopinion, left no room for any further disputation on the subject.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0128.jp2"}, "129": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 115\\nand where it is to be found, and none the less take the\\nworst to be the best. If corrupted by their own partial-\\nities for the mere superficial aspect of things, they are\\nattracted to that which pleases everybody anchored in\\nthe bay where all men ride How is it that their\\nfalsehood forges hooks for the captivation of the better\\njudgment (that of the heart) Why should I regard that\\nas a peculiar or exclusive possession of my own which\\nI know is a common property of the whole world Or\\nwhy do mine eyes, seeing what beauty is, affirm that to be\\ntrue which is not so, in order to put a fair semblance on\\nan ugly face The fact is, that both mine eyes and my\\nheart have wandered and are now transferred to this\\nmischievous error.\\nSon. 34. Oh, how much more beautiful does beauty\\nseem when it is supported and justified by truth The\\nrose looks fair, but we deem it the fairer because of other\\nqualities which it contains. The canker-blooms of the\\nhedges have just as deep a color as the fragrant cincture\\nof real roses they hang on the same thorns, and play\\nas wantonly with the summer breezes which unmask their\\npretty buds; but inasmuch as their appearance is their\\nonly attraction, they live and die without admirers.\\nThey die even to themselves, which real roses do not,\\nThis sonnet I was disposed at first to put in the Dark Lady\\nseries, where it seems on the surface to belong, but as there is one\\nsonnet there already, (No. 148), which is very like in sentiment and\\nexpression, I doubted whether the poet would so repeat himself in\\nthe same connection. Besides, as No. 148 imputes to the lady in\\nquestion a far greater latitude of behavior than was the ground of\\nhis complaint in this sonnet, it occurred to me that the blind fool-\\nlove he rebukes was not a sexual but an aesthetic fondness.\\nThe perfumed tincture of the roses, may perhaps be a mis-\\nprint for cincture.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0129.jp2"}, "130": {"fulltext": "ii6 A New Study of\\nbecause their death becomes a source of sweet odors.\\nAnd so, when your fair and lovely youth departs, let it\\nlive in the truth of your verse.\\nMr. Hallam has inferred from the tone of\\ncertain of Shakespeare s plays that there was a\\ntime in his Hfe of extreme depression, when\\nhis heart was ill at ease, or ill content with the\\nworld or his own consciousness, the memory of\\nhours misspent, the pang of affection misplaced\\nor unrequited, the experience of man s worser\\nnature, which intercourse with ill-chosen asso-\\nciates particularly teaches, as they sank down\\ninto the depths of his great mind, seem not\\nonly to have inspired into it the conception of\\nlaw and honor, but that of one primary char-\\nacter the censor of mankind. He cites in\\njustification of this opinion such plays as Meas-\\nure for Measure and Timon of Athens, which\\nlook upon the darker side of life alone. But\\nas these plays are only partly Shakespeare s\\nthey can hardly be taken as evidence, even if\\nwe admit that the real convictions or feelings\\nof an author may be derived from his ideal\\ncreations.\\nI have doubted this, in referring to the\\nquestion of his marriage, and I further doubt\\nwhether his intense depression came upon him\\nHistory of the Literature of Europe, vol. ii., pp. 293-299.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0130.jp2"}, "131": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 1 1 7\\nat any time after his early struggles at the out-\\nset of his career. Certainly four of the sonnets\\n(Nos. 71-74) express a deep dissatisfaction\\nwith himself, but in my view they bear upon\\nhis literary rather than his moral experiences.\\nThe latter, of which we shall give an account\\nin the next section,-^ may have deepened this\\nshadow, but not have been its source. They\\nread as follows\\nSon. 73. In my condition, thou mayst discover a\\nlikeness to that season of the year when yellow leaves,\\nor few or none, do hang upon boughs that shiver in the\\ncold, mere ruined choirs now where lately the sweet\\nbirds sang in it thou mayst see the twilight of a day,\\nfast fading in the west, when black night, death s second\\nself, which shuts up all in rest, will soon swallow it\\nthou mayst see in it the afterglow of a fire, which lies\\nupon its ashes as on a bed of death, where it will soon\\ngo out, consumed by that which should have been its\\nnourishment but, perceiving this, thy love is all the\\nmore precious because it clings to that which must soon\\nbe lost.\\nSon. yi. Yet mourn for me no longer than you shall\\nhear the surly sullen bell give warning that I am gone\\nfrom this vain world to dwell among the worms. Then,\\nif you should happen to read this line, do not remember\\nthe hand that wrote it, because I love you so that I\\ndesire to be forgotten, if thinking of me could cause you\\nany sorrow. Yes, I repeat it, if you should look upon\\nthis verse, when I am mingled with the dust, do not so\\nSee Episode of the Dark Lady, post.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0131.jp2"}, "132": {"fulltext": "ii8 A New Study of\\nmuch as recall my poor name, but let your love cease\\nwith my life, lest the worldly wise should inquire into\\nthe cause of your grief and hold it in mockery.\\nSon. 72. For if the world should ask you to tell\\nwhat merit there was in me, worthy of such love after\\nmy decease, you could offer nothing in justification,\\nexcept by some well-intended falsehood, attaching to\\nmy name a higher praise than it deserves, or more than\\nstrict truth could approve. It would be better for my\\nname to be buried with my body, than for you to be\\nbetrayed by your love into speaking well of that which\\nis surely a shame, and I am ashamed of that which\\nI produce, as you should be, in loving what is worth\\nnothing.\\nNone the less, be contented\\nSon. 7^. For when that fell seizure, which is without\\nbail, shall carry me away, this shall remain with thee as\\na memorial of me. In re-reading it, remember that\\nthou dost renew the part of me that was entirely conse-\\ncrated to thee. The earth may take the body, which\\nis its due, but the spirit, the highest quality of our\\nnature, is thine. Thou losest but the dregs of life, when\\nthe body dies, to become the prey of worms, the\\nconquest of a wretched strife too base to be recalled\\n[of that struggle between his higher and lower nature of\\nwhich we may read something in Sonnet 146].*\\nDowden asks, Does Shakespeare merely speak of the liability of\\nthe body to untimely or violent mischance Or does he meditate sui-\\ncide or think of Marlowe s death and anticipate such a fate as possibly\\nhis own Or has he, like Marlowe been wounded Or does he re-\\nfer to the dissection of dead bodies? Or is it confounding age s\\ncruel knife of Son. 63:14? Rolf e adds: If not a merely figurative", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0132.jp2"}, "133": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 119\\nThe young poet, however, was not wholly\\ndiscouraged, and under some better inspiration\\ntried his hand again, and as I conjecture, on\\na pleasant conceited comedy called Loves\\nLabor V Lost. It was published in Quarto\\nas early as 1598, and then as newly corrected\\nand augmented. It was mentioned the same\\nyear not only by Meres, as we have seen, but\\nin a poem entitled Alba, by R. T., Gentle-\\nman, so that it must have been written some\\ntime before. Several critics date it as early as\\n1 59 1, and White in 1588-89.\\nMr. Irving s editor pronounces this the\\nworst of all Shakespeare s plays, which it can\\nhardly be if he wrote Tihis Andronicus\\nnor is it by any means, as he avers, tedious\\nand uninteresting. Both as a psychological\\nand a historical study, it is full of interest and\\nsignificance, despite its faults, its occasional\\ndoggerel, its puns, its conceits, and its com-\\nmonplace allusions. It is largely original in\\nplot and character, overflows with real wit,\\nSnip, snap, quick and home, as Armado\\nexpression, like this last, the key to it is probably in the first question\\nabove this life which is at the mercy of any base assassin s knife.\\nThe latter seems to be the preferable explanation. Palgrave says\\nthe expression must allude to anatomical dissection then recently\\nrevived in Europe by Vesalius, Fallopius, Pare, and others. O\\nLord, sir as the clown says, in All V Well that Ends Well.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0133.jp2"}, "134": {"fulltext": "I20 A New Study of\\nsays, and the blank verse here and there is\\nthe best that had been written up to its time.\\nIt excited more than usual attention, on the\\npart of Shakespeare s fellow-playwrights, and\\nwe can easily imagine one of them, say Peele,\\nstraying into a taphouse, for a morning dram,\\nand encountering Mr. Greene, who had been\\nthere all night, with the salutation, Well\\nBob, were you at the theatre yesterday\\nNo, but what s up A new piece written\\nby that stripling busybody from Stratford.\\nWell, how did it go? Bad enough; it\\nabounds in sonnets, or new rhymes of some\\nsort and yet the people laughed, and now and\\nthen there was a burst of this new-fangled\\nblank verse, which is likely to make Marlowe\\ntremble for his laurels. That lad, muttered\\nGreene, must be looked to, and he was\\nlooked to, with a vengeance.\\nThe playwrights of the time were a far more\\ndissolute set than the actors, given to full\\nand riotous living good scholars, most of them,\\ncollege bred university wits, as they were\\ncalled, but thorough-going roysterers. They\\nrather looked down upon our poor lad without\\nacademic education, and with, perhaps, rustic\\nmanners, and those gentle and genial ways,\\non which all reports agree. On the other", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0134.jp2"}, "135": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 121\\nhand, he rather despised them in his country-\\nbred innocence, for their reckless dissipations.\\nThe two were not of a kind, and kept more or\\nless aloof, one from the other. In the end\\nGreene, on his death-bed, abused Shakespeare\\nroundly as a Johannes Factotum, or Jack of all\\nwork, and an upstart who strutted about in\\nborrowed feathers^ Nash ridiculed him more\\nthan once as a Noverint or lawyer s clerk, who\\nmade pretensions to literature, though if he\\nwere going to be hanged he could not muster\\nLatin enough to form a necktie. Shakespeare\\nfelt the disdain and detraction as a sensitive\\nyouth should do, and recorded his feelings in\\nseveral of his tablets. He was unwilling to\\nascribe their abuse to his own want of merit\\nand thought it their envy. He said to him-\\nself:\\nSon. 70. That thou art blamed, is not on account of\\nthy defects, but because of the readiness with which\\nslander hits at merit. It has come to be so now\\nthat suspicion,* like a crow that flies in heaven s purest\\nair, is rather an ornament than a detraction. If thou art\\nreally meritorious such slander proves thy worth the\\nSee Greene s Groatsworth of Wit, Bought with a Million of\\nRepentance.\\nThe word used is suspect, meaning suspicion. It is so used by\\nShakespeare no less than ten times, but eight of them in his very\\nearliest works, like Henry VI. and the Comedy of Errors.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0135.jp2"}, "136": {"fulltext": "122 A New Study of\\ngreater, and particularly when it is invited by or insti-\\ngated by thy youth.* The canker vice selects the earliest\\nbuds and thou presentest a pure unsullied prime. Thou\\nhast passed through the snares that are set for the inex-\\nperienced, either not assailed, or if assailed victorious\\nover them and yet this is not a merit that exempts thee\\nfrom all malice, which seems to be ever more and more\\nactive. If some calumny were not attached to thy\\nefforts, thou wouldst be an exception among writers, and\\nreign alone over the world of human admiration.\\nSon. 6g. Those qualities of thine, which everybody\\nappreciates, need nothing, which a more earnest or heart-\\nfelt study might impart. All tongues when they speak\\ntheir better sentiments give thee that due, but they utter\\nthe sheer truth in the tone of an enemy when he is\\nobliged to commend. They praise thy external ac-\\ncomplishments in a sort of external way, but when\\nthey come to speak of thy higher qualities they annul\\nwhat they have conceded, by the use of other ac-\\ncents. They try to look into thy inner capacities, which\\nthey do by guess or inference from thy performances,\\nand then the churls lend to thy fair flowers the rank\\nsmell of weeds yet it is not strange that thy fragrance\\ndoes not equal thy show because thou hast allowed thy-\\nself to fall into the commonplaces of the day.\\nThe poet then asks himself But why should\\nI care for these misrepresentations, or why\\nallow myself to be influenced by them for the\\nworse\\nBeing wooed by time, is the phrase here, which may mean\\nsolicited by the influence of the times, but the lines that follow\\nimmediately induce me to adopt the sense given above.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0136.jp2"}, "137": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 123\\nSon. 121. It is better to be vile in your own way (that\\nis, by following out your own impulses honestly, though\\nthat way may be wrong) than to accept the reproaches of\\nothers as true, when they are not, and thereby lose the\\njust pleasure of doing what is not deemed a reproach, by\\nyour own feelings, but by those of others/ Why should the\\nfalse and sophisticated opinions of others be permitted to\\narouse or encourage your wilder propensities or to stimu-\\nlate passions already sufficiently quickened They who\\nspy out my frailties are more frail than I am, and they wil-\\nfully count that as bad which I think is good. No! I am\\njust what I am, neither more nor less; and they who level\\ntheir shots at my supposed abuses only reckon up their\\nown. I may be straight while they themselves are\\ncrooked, and my conduct shall not be estimated by their\\ncorrupt standards, unless, indeed, we are prepared to\\nmaintain the generality of evil and to hold all men\\nequally bad, and thriving only by means of their\\nbadness.\\nThis self-restraint and self-poise he insists\\nis the best, even though it may not be free\\nfrom failure.\\nSon. g4 They that have the power to do harm and yet\\ndo no harm, who do not do what they are most capable of\\ndoing, who, moving others, are themselves unmoved, and\\nare cold and slow to temptation, inherit one of the best\\ngraces of heaven and save nature s endowments from a\\nwasteful expenditure. They are the lords and owners\\nof their self-expression, while others are but the stewards\\nThe poet is here so concise that he becomes not a little obscure,\\nand the reader must get the meaning as he best can.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0137.jp2"}, "138": {"fulltext": "124 A New Study of\\nof the powers they possess. The summer s flower is to\\nthe summer sweet, although it only lives and dies to\\nitself yet if that flower meets with infection, the bas-\\nest weed may outshine it in dignity. Thus, the sweetest\\nthings turn the sourest in their perversion, as lilies that\\nfester smell far worse than weeds.\\nTake care, then, O poet, is the inference,\\nlest the churls entice thee out of the right\\npath.\\n(4) An Outlook ttpon the Great World.\\nWhile the poet was thus brooding over his\\nown disappointments and wrongs, his lustrous\\neyes were looking out also upon the busy\\nworld, not only of London, but of all Christen-\\ndom. Tired of all of it, he exclaims I could\\ncry for restful death.\\nSon. 66. When I behold the highest desert born a\\nbeggar when I behold a crafty nobody trimmed in all\\nthe trappings of jollity when I see the purest faith most\\nwickedly betrayed the gilded ornaments of honor most\\nshamefully misplaced maiden virtue brutally strum-\\npeted; the perfection of right disgracefully prostituted to\\nthe basest wrong real strength of character disabled by\\nlimping sway art (his own art especially) silenced by\\nthe interposition of incompetent authority; folly, with\\nthe air of a learned doctor, controlling skill the simple,\\nThis line is to be found in the play of Edward III. (ii., i), and\\nin a part which has by some critics been attributed to the pen of\\nShakespeare,", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0138.jp2"}, "139": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 125\\nobvious truth denounced as foolishness and good every-\\nwhere subjected to presumptuous ill, most willingly\\nwould I take myself out of this hideous coil, save\\nthat by dying I should abandon my darling to its\\nwickedness.*\\nOne cannot read this summary of social and\\npolitical life without being reminded of the\\nfamous soliloquy of Hamlet, To be or not to\\nbe. Indeed, the whole play of Hamlet turns\\nupon these discords in the order of the world,\\nthat heavy burden of wrong which society im-\\nposes, that terrible injustice which grows out\\nof crime, and the self-destruction which the\\nsonnet hints at.\\nI cannot but think that while the young poet\\nwas meditating upon these distractions and\\ndiseases of society, it came to him to ask of\\nwhat service a true poet could be in such a\\nmedium.\\nSon. 67. Oh, wherefore should he live in the midst of\\ninfection, and by his presence lend a grace to its im-\\npieties, thereby enabling sin to achieve its triumph and\\neven embellish itself by the association Why should\\nfalse painting, or meretricious methods of representation\\nimitate his style, and steal a dead semblance of life from\\nhis living form Why should poor beauty herself ignor-\\nantly seek for roses, which are but shadows of roses,\\nThis would apply more truly to the far-off dependent Anne,\\nthan to a member of a wealthy family, surrounded by powerful\\nfriends.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0139.jp2"}, "140": {"fulltext": "126 A New Study of\\nwhen his rose is true Why should he live at all, now\\nthat nature is exhausted by these pretenders who lay\\ntheir hands upon her every aspect and relation, until she\\nhas no longer blood enough left to blush for shame at the\\noutrages they commit She has no resources to draw\\nupon now but those of the true poet, in whose advances,\\nthough proud of many excellences, she really lives. Oh,\\nhim, oh, him, she endows to show what wealth she had\\nin former days, before the arrival of these evil times.\\nIn these last lines, the poet seems to me to\\nhint at the relations of Nature to Art, which he\\nafterwards dwells upon more fully in a fine\\npassage of The Winter s Tale, where Perdita,\\nhaving refused to have anything to do with\\nartificial flowers, because they were a sort of\\nbastard production, says\\nThere is an art, which in their piedness shares\\nWith great creating nature.\\nAnd Polixenes replies\\nSay there be\\nYet nature is made better by no mean,\\nBut nature makes that mean so, over that art\\nWhich you say adds to nature, is an art\\nThat nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry\\nA gentler scion to the wildest stock.\\nAnd make conceive a bark of baser kind\\nBy bud of nobler race this is an art\\nWhich does mend nature, change it rather, but\\nThe art itself is nature.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0140.jp2"}, "141": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 127\\nThese, says Brandes (vol. ii., p. 354),\\nand I agree with him, these are the most\\nprofound and subtle words that could well be\\nspoken on the subject of the relations between\\nNature and Culture.\\nThe poet continues in the same vein\\nSon. 68. Thus it is, that what the true poet presents\\nus is a map of those days outworn, when beauty came\\nand went, as the flowers do now e., spontaneously,\\nor without labor, as we see in early legends and folk-\\nsongs and ballads). That was before these bastard\\nsigns of beauty made their appearance, or dared to\\nascribe their paternity to some living brain. That was\\nbefore the golden tresses of the dead, the right of\\nthe sepulchre, the (exquisite touches of classic authors),\\nwere stolen away, and made to flourish for a second time\\non a second head, and the dead fleece of beauty was\\nparaded gaily as real beauty. But in him, the true poet,\\nThe Quarto says, His cheek is the map of days outworn,\\nmeaning by cheek what is exposed to view, as in Richard III. (ill.,\\n3. 57)1 The cloudy cheek of heaven, or in The Tempest (i., 2, 4),\\nThe welkin s cheek, or in Troilus and Cressida (v., 3, 15),\\nThe wide cheek of the air.\\nMap is often used for outline, picture, pattern, etc.\\nRichard II. (v. i., 12) has Thou map of honor 2 Henry VI.\\n(iii., i), In thy face I see the map of honor, truth, and loyalty\\nTitus Andronictis (iii., 2, 12), Thou map of woe Lucrece (i.,\\n1350). This pattern of the wornout age. That sapient critic,\\nMr. S. Butler, says this sonnet is addressed to Mr. W. H., who\\nhas been keeping company of which Shakespeare did not approve.\\nYea, verily.\\nThe golden tresses of the dead. See Love s Labor s Lost (iv.,\\n3, 254-9) I Merchant of Venice (iii., 2, 92), and Tivion (iv., 3, 144).", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0141.jp2"}, "142": {"fulltext": "128 A New Study of\\nwe see those holy antique hours, which affected no\\nspurious adornments the poet was himself and true to\\nhimself, not making a summer out of the green growths\\nof others, nor robbing the past to dress out his beauty\\nas if it were new. No, nature enriches him as a model\\nfor later times, in order to show false art what beauty\\nwas of yore.\\nIt is pleasant to think that during this period\\nof desolation and in the midst of his increasing\\nactivities of business, the absent poet did not\\nforget his annual poetic tribute to the mother\\nin the country. On one of these occasions he\\nwrote\\nSo7i. g8. I have been away from you in the spring,\\nwhen richly apparelled April imparts the spirit of youth\\nto everything, and even the heavy Saturn laughs and leaps\\nwith joy, and yet neither the color nor the fragrance\\nof its many different flowers could inspire me to any\\njovial effort, not even to pluck them from their stalks.\\nNor do I praise the white of the lily, or the vermilion of\\nthe rose, for they were sweet and delightful only as\\ndrawn after thee, the pattern of all lovely things. It is\\nalways winter, when you are away, and I could play with\\nthem only as your shadows.\\nOn another occasion he continues\\nSon. 99. I could only chide them (the flowers) for\\ntheir thieveries and I said to the violet, sweet thief,\\nwhence hast thou thy sweetest spells, but from my\\nA sad tale s best for winter, says The Winter s Tale.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0142.jp2"}, "143": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 1 29\\nlove s breast/ Their purple complexion was derived\\nfrom thy veins the whiteness of the lily I condemned\\nwhen compared to thy hands, and the buds of marjoram\\nhad been stolen from thy hair. Even the roses stood\\nanxiously among their thorns, one blushing for shame,\\nanother white from fear, a third not white nor red,\\nbut both, because they had robbed their colors from\\nthee, and annexed thy breath. The last, indeed, was\\neaten up by a canker in the midst of his proud show.\\nMany other flowers I noted, but they had all purloined\\ntheir scent or their color from thee.\\nThen at another time the poet repeats the\\nthought almost in the same words but with in-\\ncreasing emphasis.\\nSon. gy. How like a winter has my absence been what\\nfreezing have I felt, what dark days seen the barrenness\\nof old December everywhere, and yet the time elapsed has\\nbeen the summer time. Even teeming autumn (bearing\\nthe rich burdens of the season, like widowed wombs\\nafter their lord s decease), despite its abundant issue,\\nbrought but a barren and unfruitful hope.^ Summer and\\nthe pleasures of summer wait on thee, and when thou\\nart away the very birds are mute, or if they sing at all, it\\nis in a cheerless strain, while the leaves grow pale in fear\\nof the coming gloom.\\nI have reserved to the last, as covering the\\nwhole of this period of struggle, dejection, and\\nThe Quarto has my love s breath, which is the same thought\\nwe have in a few lines below and certainly a misprint.\\nThe words of the Quarto are, but hope of orphans.\\n9", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0143.jp2"}, "144": {"fulltext": "130 A New Study of\\neffort, a sonnet, which is not only remarkable\\nfor its merit, but which carries with it a singular\\npathos of suggestion.\\nSon. 2g. When in disfavor with fortune, and the\\nopinions of men, I weep over my condition, in utter\\nsolitude, and trouble the irresponsive heaven with my\\nuseless cries, wishing that I were more rich in hope,\\nfeatured like this one, or befriended like that, desiring\\nthis man s art or that man s range, and the least of all\\nsatisfied with what I most enjoy (his own efforts, doubt-\\nless), and yet despising myself for these very thoughts,\\nfor in the midst of them I haply think of thee, with heart\\nelate, like to the lark which at break of day springs\\nfrom the sullen earth and sings its hymns at the very\\ngates of heaven, for, thy sweet love remembered brings\\nsuch wealth of happiness, that I would not change my\\nstate for that of any king.\\nWhat is so pathetic here is, that this youth\\nlooking about him in this forlorn way, had, in\\nless than ten years, placed himself at the head\\nof the dramatic art of England, and, in less\\nthan twenty, at the head of the dramatic art of\\nall time.\\nV. THE EPISODE OF THE DARK LADY.\\nIt is not known precisely when a syren\\nwound her coils of grace about our poet, but\\nit must have been, in all likelihood, after he", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0144.jp2"}, "145": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 131\\nhad attained some distinction on the stage.\\nWomen we know have a soft spot in their\\nhearts for handsome young actors, and, in this\\ncase, to the charms of the actor were, perhaps,\\nadded those of the budding playwright. Ac-\\ncording to the Sonnets themselves this woman\\nwas already married, young, and accomplished\\nas a musician, and though not a famous\\nbeauty in the popular sense, yet of impressive\\nappearance. Her dark complexion and her\\nbrilliant black eyes attracted attention. She\\nwas not a simple Anne Page, nor a poetic\\nPerdita, but rather a cunning Cressida, who\\nknew how to advance or retreat as the exigen-\\ncies of her game might require. That she was\\nof good social position we gather from the slow\\nand respectful manner in which the poet made\\nhis approaches. Indeed, a traditional report\\nsays that she was a lady in waiting on Queen\\nElizabeth, who was afterwards dismissed be-\\ncause of her indiscretions. One writer, Mr.\\nTyler, has gone so far as to assert positively\\nthat she was a Mistress Mary Fitton, and he\\nbuilds an elaborate and complex story upon the\\nassumption.^ It has, however, since been shown,\\nthat Mistress Mary Fitton was a blonde, of\\nbrownish hair, and gray eyes, and not other-\\nIntroduction to the fac-siijiile edition of the Sonnets.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0145.jp2"}, "146": {"fulltext": "132 A New Study of\\nwise answerable to the descriptions of the\\nSonnets.*\\nWhen and where the poet encountered this\\nlady does not appear but it may have been\\neither at some of the performances given by\\nhis company before the Court at Whitehall or\\nRichmond, or at the public theatre, where\\npersons of quality often sat upon the stage.\\nBe that as it may, a social gulf opened between\\nthe poor player and the lady of society which\\nhad to be bridged in some way before they could\\nbe intimate. It would have been a gross breach\\nof etiquette for him to address her directly, and\\nshe could not have approached him very well,\\nexcept in the way of judicious oeillades\\nand occasional half-smothered smiles. They\\nbegan in that spirit of gallantry which, accord-\\ning to Mrs. Jameson, prevailed to such an\\nextent in the age of Elizabeth, and was marked\\nby expressions of extravagant courtesy and\\ndevotion, without much real feeling at the\\nbottom. The pretended lover described his\\nmistress, as Warton says,^ not in terms of\\nintelligible yet artful panegyric, nor in the real\\ncolors and with the genuine accomplishments\\nGossip from a Muniment Room. By Lady Newdegate, London,\\n1897.\\n^History of English Poetry, vol. iv., p. 322.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0146.jp2"}, "147": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 133\\nof nature, but as an eccentric ideal being of\\nanother sphere and inspiring sentiments equally-\\nunmeaning, hyperbolical, and unnatural.\\ni) The Gradual Approaches of the Poet.\\nIn this preliminary difhculty the player began\\nin the style of his suitors, in Loves Labor s\\nLost, i.e., by dropping a poem in her path, or\\nit may have been into her lap as he passed in\\nor out among the audience. Taking his cue\\nfrom his profession, he wrote in this wise\\nSo?i. 2j. Like an imperfect actor on the stage whose\\nfears put him out of his part, or like some wild thing\\nin an excess of passion, whose abundant strength is a\\nsource of his weakness, I dare not trust myself to\\nspeak, lest I should forget the phrases which are proper\\nin the first rites of love. Overburdened by my feelings,\\ntheir fulness may prove an impediment to their suitable\\nexpression, and therefore I beg that my book (or the tab-\\nlet on which he wrote) may be accepted as the dumb but\\neloquent precursor of my speech. It pleads for my\\nlove and for some return to that love, more ardently than\\nany tongue that could say more in more effective words.\\nAs Coriolanus says (v. iii., 40-42).\\nLike a dull actor now\\nI have forgot my part, and I am dumb.\\nThe Quarto has fierce thing, meaning wild thing, as in\\nCymbeline (v., 5, 382), or in Hamlet (i., i, 21). Johnson says, it was\\nemployed as vehement, rapid, and Schmidt as irregular,\\ndisordered. It refers liere likely to the poet s country training.\\nHow exceedingly ludicrous this hesitation and timidity appear\\non the supposition that the poet is addressing (not a woman still a\\nstranger to him) but a young man greatly his inferior in years", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0147.jp2"}, "148": {"fulltext": "134 A New Study of\\nAs it belongs to the finer cunning of love to hear with\\nthe eyes, oh, be pleased to read in this what silent love\\nhath writ\\nWhat seems to have impressed the poet most\\nstrongly was the lady s dark complexion, which\\n(rare in northern climates,) is common enough\\namong Orientals and Italians, in this country\\namong Creoles. By a singular use of words,\\ndark was then called black. Othello, who\\nwas merely a Moor, speaks of himself as black.\\nCleopatra says that she was blackened by the\\namorous pinches of the sun, and Rosaline,\\nin Loves Labor s Lost, is compared to ebony.^\\nIt was not, however, a complexion that\\nhad formerly been admired, and it seems an\\nadroit move on the part of the poet, to open\\nhis appeal with an ingenious defence of its\\nattractiveness. He wrote\\nSon. 12 In the olden time, black was not regarded\\nas beautiful, or if it was, it was not so named but in\\nthese modern times, when ladies undertake to darken\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2So in the Two Gentletnen of Verona (v. ii., lo) Thurio says,\\nMy face is black, and quotes the adage, Black men are pearls\\nin beauteous ladies eyes.\\nGrant White sayc, that during the chivalric ages, brunettes\\nwere not acknowledged as beauties anywhere in Christendom. In\\nall the old contes, fabliaux, and romances, the heroines are blondes,\\nand even the possession of dark eyes and hair, and the complexion\\nthat accompanies them, is referred to by the troubadours as a mis-\\nfortune. Shakespeare s Works, vol. ii., p. 236.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0148.jp2"}, "149": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 135\\ntheir faces artificially, hiding their real beauty under a\\nmask, it has become an heir of beauty by right of suc-\\ncession. With many who are not born fair, this change\\nis a trick, which profanes real beauty, but my mis-\\ntress* eyes are raven black by nature, her brows the same,\\nand they are so, that they may mourn over those who\\nslander creation by putting upon it a false esteem\\nthey mourn so becomingly that every tongue is begin-\\nning to say now that all beauty should be black.\\nThe sentiment of this sonnet is expanded\\ninto nearly a scene in Loves Labor s Lost\\n(iv., 3, 247) where the King ralhes Biron on\\nthe color of his lady s face.\\nKing By Heaven, thy love is black as ebony.\\nBiron Is ebony like her O wood divine\\nA wife of such wood were felicity.\\nNo face is fair that is not full so black.\\nKing O paradox Black is the badge of hell.\\nThe hue of dungeons and the shroud of night.\\nBiron Oh, if in black my lady s brow be deck d.\\nIt mourns that painting and usurping hair\\nShould ravish doters with a false aspect,\\nAnd therefore is she born to make black fair.\\nBurckhardt TAe Renaissance in Italy, p. 371 ei seq!) treats at\\nconsiderable length of the efforts of Italian women to alter their\\nappearance, not only by toilettes, but by cosmetics, which tended to\\nthe formation of a conventional type, by the most transparent decep-\\ntions. In these new modes of ornamentation the hair was an\\nespecial favorite. It was not only dyed, but often replaced by wigs\\nof silk. The practice was followed to some extent in England,\\nwhere many mixtures for beautifying the face waters, plasters, and\\npaints were in vogue, and for sale even in the shops.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0149.jp2"}, "150": {"fulltext": "13^ A New Study of\\nHer favour turns the fashion of the day,\\nHer native blood is counted painting now\\nAnd therefore red, that would avoid dispraise,\\nPaints itself black, to imitate her brow.\\nStill the lady was seemingly obdurate, and\\nthe poet, piqued a little by her apparent\\nhaughtiness, talks out plainly.\\nSon. 131. Thou art as tyrannical, black as thou art,\\nas those whose pride in their acknowledged beauty\\nrenders them cruel. Thou knowest that to my doting\\nheart thou art fair and precious, although it must in\\ngood faith be confessed that others do not behold in\\nthee qualities which excite the deepest sentiments of\\nadmiration. Nor am I so bold as to say that they err,\\nexcepting to myself, when I swear they do, and a\\nthousand groans come huddling one upon the other to\\nprove their falsehood and my truth. Thou art black\\nin nothing save thy deeds, e., thy modes of treating\\nme,) which have given rise, no doubt, to the depreciat-\\ning speeches that have got abroad.\\nThese compliments ought to have conciliated\\nthe dame, but it seems they did not, and she\\ncontinued her ostensible haughtiness yet the\\npoet was equal to the occasion and he turned\\nfrom her face to her eyes, writing\\nAs the poet is not likely to have taken his private sonnet from\\nhis public play, we have some evidence here as to the date of these\\nSonnets, vs^hich must have been before 1588-9, when the play was\\npublished.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0150.jp2"}, "151": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 137\\nSon. 132. I love thine eyes particularly, because,\\nknowing the disdain of thy heart, they mourn in sym-\\npathy with my distress.\\nAnd truly not the morning sun of Heaven\\nBetter becomes the gray cheeks of the east,\\nNor that full star that ushers in the even\\nDoth half that glory to the sober west\\nAs those two mourning eyes become thy face.\\nThen, since this mourning lends thee so much grace,\\nlet it beseem thy heart as well, and thy pity show itself\\nthe same in every part. In which event I shall be pre-\\npared to swear that all true beauty is black and that\\nthose who lack thy complexion, are really ugly.\\nThe poet then goes on to another point\\nThine eyes do me the favor of pleading\\nfor me, and so mine reciprocate the service, by\\nportraying thee on my heart.\\nSon. 24. Mine eye has turned painter and represented\\nthy form of beauty on the tablets of my soul. My body\\nis the frame wherein the picture is held, in a perspective\\nor at a point of view, which shows it at the best. It is\\nthrough the skill of the artist that thou wilt find thy\\nreal perfections. The picture hangs in my bosom as in\\na showcase, glassed by mine eyes, and so it is that our\\neyes have done a good turn for each other. Thine\\neyes have favored me (Son. 132) and mine have drawn\\nthee, in such a way, that the sun delights to peep\\nthrough the windows (my eyes) that he may see thee in\\nthy completeness. Yet the eyes depict what they see and\\nlack that cunning which is able to show the whole heart.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0151.jp2"}, "152": {"fulltext": "138 A New Study of\\nLet me, however, be frank, and tell the\\nwhole truth.\\nSon. 141. I do not love thee with mine eyes alone,\\nwhich might, perhaps, by scrutinizing too closely, dis-\\ncover a few defects. Mine ears are not enraptured by\\nthy tones nor do any of my senses, (smell, taste, nor\\na tenderer but baser feeling) care to be invited to\\nany mere sensual entertainment. It is my heart that\\ndotes in spite of these, and neither my five wits, nor my\\nfive senses, can dissuade it from its devotion. They\\nleave me unswayed the mere likeness of a man, thy\\nwretched vassal and slave, only my trouble is also a\\ngain, inasmuch as she who makes me offend awards the\\npunishm.ent.\\nIn the disappointment the poet pretends to\\nfeel, because of her continued disdain, he ad-\\nvises her to be as wise as she is cruel, and not\\npush his silent patience to an extreme. He\\nsays\\nSon. 140. Be wise as thou art cruel and do not drive\\nme to despair, lest in that despair I should resort to the\\nuse of pitiless words. If I might teach thee a bit of\\nprudence, it would be to tell thee it were better if thou\\ndost not love me to say that thou dost for I am like a sick\\nman, in the prospect of death, who desires to hear from\\nhis physician no language but that of encouragement\\nor an assurance that he is doing very well. Ah, if I\\nshould be pushed to desperation, I should go mad, and,\\nin that madness, give utterance to slander, which the\\ncarping world would be too ready to believe, and", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0152.jp2"}, "153": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 139\\ntherefore, lest I should be so misled, and thou belied in\\nconsequence, keep thine eyes in the right direction,\\neven if thy heart has gone astray.\\nBut the language of the eyes is not enough,\\nand the poet wants, besides, her honest word\\nfrom the tongue. She is unkind, and he\\ncannot endure it. He beseeches\\nSon. ijg. Do not ask me to approve the wrong which\\nthy unkindness inflicts upon my heart do not wound\\nme with thine eyes, but with thy tongue and tell me\\nfrankly that thou lovest elsewhere. Use thy power\\ndirectly, and do not kill me by cunning. Do not in my\\npresence cast thy glances aside. What need is there of\\nresorting to this insidious means, when thy might is\\nmore than my overpressed defences can endure And\\nyet there may be an excuse for the deadly use of thine\\neyes My love knows that her pretty looks have been\\nmy enemies, and now turns them upon my rivals, that\\nshe may injure them as she has injured me yet do not\\ndo it, dear, for as I am nearly slain, kill me at once,\\nand end my misery.\\nHow long the poet was kept dangling in\\nthis uncertain way we cannot say, but sooner\\nor later he was admitted to a closer intimacy,\\nwhich did not turn out precisely as he had\\nexpected. Instead of that simple, fresh, and\\nhonest intercourse, to which he had been used\\nin his early love at Stratford, he encountered", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0153.jp2"}, "154": {"fulltext": "I40 A New Study of\\nthe conventionalities of a highly artificial cir-\\ncle, which professed sincerity, but had none.\\nHe describes it thus\\nSon. 138. When my mistress swears that she is en-\\ntirely truthful, I feign to believe her, though I know all\\nthe while that she is fibbing, and I do so, that she may\\nregard me as a raw, unsophisticated youth, wholly un-\\nfamiliar with the subtleties that are the fashion. Thus,\\npretending to think that she thinks me young, although\\nshe knows that I am past my prime (or that I have\\nreached middle age, which then came earlier than it\\ndoes now), I smilingly credit her falsities. Thus, on\\nboth sides, we suppress the real facts, and I lie to her,\\nwhile she lies to me, and so by reciprocal falsehoods,\\nwe flatter each other s vanities.\\nIt was a game of gallantry, not worthy of\\nbeing reproduced here but for the light it\\nthrows upon the playful nature of an experi-\\nence which in the end became very serious.\\nProgress of the Flirtation.\\nAware of the pride that performers upon\\ninstruments take in their accomplishment, the\\npoet complimented the lady upon her skill\\nwith the virginal, the great, great grand-\\nmother of our modern piano forte, and he in-\\nfused into his praises a good deal of apparent\\nadmiration.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0154.jp2"}, "155": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 141\\nSon. 128. When thou, my music (or, my source of\\ndelight and harmony), dost touch the blessed wood with\\nthy fingers, I envy the nimble jacks (or keys) that leap to\\nkiss the tender inward of thy hand and my poor\\nlips, which should gather that delicious harvest, blush\\nat their boldness. They would, indeed, like to change\\nplaces with the dancing chips but, since the little fel-\\nlows are so happy in their vocation why why give\\nthem thy fingers, but me thy lips to kiss.\\nThat was an audacious suggestion, no doubt,\\nfor a country fellow, and an actor at that, to\\nmake, and the lady took it, or pretended to\\ntake, in dudgeon so the poet was compelled\\nto apologize, which he did by punning in a\\nstrange way upon his name. He wrote thus\\nSon. 136. If thy soul chide thee that I come so near,\\n(as to invoke a kiss), let thy blind soul remember that I\\nam Will (Will I am), and that will is admitted to be\\none of the qualities of the soul To that extent, then,\\nsweet, fulfil my love-suit e.^ allow me to be a part\\nof thy soul. Will will complete thy treasure of love,\\nby filling it full of affections yea, although his affection\\nis but one, that is, none in one sense, number, it is\\nmany in another sense. In things of mere account, it\\nis easily proved, that one is reckoned none, and so as a\\nmere number let me pass untold.^ And yet I must be\\nThe tender inward of thy hand is an expression that shows\\nthat the person addressed was at least not used to work.\\nSee Hero and Leander. Sect, i., 1. 339 For one no number\\nis also Romeo and yuliet (i., 232-3) One may stand in number,\\nthough in reckoning none.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0155.jp2"}, "156": {"fulltext": "142 A New Study of\\nregarded in estimating thy store of afiection. Hold me\\nas nothing, even if it please thee to hold that nothing\\nme, as something sweet to thee. Make but the word\\nWill (which means desire affection), an object of thy\\nlove, and continue to love it and then, thou lovest me,\\nbecause my name is Will.\\nBut why should these be more than one, the\\npoet asks, putting his question in the same\\npunning guise. Strange and frivolous as the\\npractice of punning seems to us now, it was\\nin great vogue in the age of Elizabeth, as an\\nevidence of the dexterity of the poet and of\\nthe ingenuity of the reader. Shakespeare,\\nhimself, in his early plays, resorts to it, in the\\nsolemnest moments, such as the prospect and\\nnear advent of death. In this sonnet the\\nword will occurs no less than thirteen times,\\nand several times with a slightly modified sig-\\nnificance, which the reader is left to discover\\nif he can my own exposition of this son-\\nnet is this\\nSon. 1^5. Whoever has her wish, thou hast thy\\nWill (Shakespeare), and thou hast Will, or his desire,\\nbesides, which is having Will in superfluity. Am not I\\nThis sonnet, owing to the constant play upon words, is not a little\\nobscure and yet one can get a meaning out of it. The last lines\\namount to this In counting the number of those who hold thee\\ndear, do not count me as a number, for as a mere number one is\\nnone, but in estimating the worth of what you possess (your\\nstore), I am to be regarded in the account.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0156.jp2"}, "157": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 143\\nalone more than enough to vex thy gentle disposition by\\nmaking appeals to it in this wise Wilt thou, whose\\nlikings are broad and spacious, not vouchsafe to hide\\nmy desire in thine, or to identify our affections shall\\nthe desire of others for thy regards appear agreeable\\nwhile my liking is met with a scant show of accept-\\nance As the ocean, though it is all water, continues\\nto receive the raindrops, and so add to its abundance,*\\nso mayst thy affection, rich as it is already, receive\\nthis little contribution of mine, to render it the larger.\\nOf this use of Will, in the sense of liking or\\naffection, we have an instance in King John\\n(ii., I, 510), where Blanch playfully says\\nMine uncle s will (choice or desire) in this respect\\nis mine\\nIf he sees aught in you that makes him like.\\nThat anything he sees, which moves his liking,\\nI can with ease translate it to my will (choice).\\nOr, if you will, to speak more properly,\\nI will enforce it easily to my love (affection).\\nHow exquisitely this image of the sea is used by Juliet when she\\nexclaims,\\nMy bounty is as boundless as the sea,\\nMy love as deep the more I give to thee,\\nThe more I have, for both are infinite.\\nRo7neo and Juliet.\\nMr. Sidney Lee s interpretation of this sonnet, giving to the\\nword Will, the sense of lust, is so grossly offensive that it is a dis-\\ngrace to literature. Shakespeare, the gentle Willy, or the sweet\\nWill, of his contemporaries, was not a blackguard, and could never,\\nunder any circumstances, have written to or of any woman whose ac-\\nquaintance he had sought, that her sensuality was as insatiable as the\\nsea. All these sonnets were meant to be complimentary, not vitu-\\nperative or insulting, and they can be so construed without doing\\nany violence to the text.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0157.jp2"}, "158": {"fulltext": "144 A New Study of\\nWhat occasion is there for the attitude you\\nassume, in regard to my offence (the wish\\nto kiss her.)\\nSon. 142. Love in me is a sin, it seems, while thou\\ndost hold thy hate of it as a signal virtue Compare thine\\nown state with mine, and thou wilt see that mine needs no\\nespecial reproach, or, if it does, not from those lips\\nof thine which have profaned their scarlet ornaments,\\nand sealed false bonds of love, as oft as mine have\\nrobbed their best revenues of the lips) of their\\nproper rents.* Let it be as lawful for me to kiss thee, as\\nit is for thee to love those whom thine eyes woo as\\nmine woo thee. Plant compassion in thy heart, that\\nwhen it grows it may deserve to be reciprocated. If\\nthou dost seek to have what thou dost chide in others\\nthou mayst be denied by thine own example.\\nThe gibes of the sonnet must have stung\\nthe lady to a retort, in which she probably\\ndemanded with some impatience his right to\\nquestion her goings on, or to impute actions\\nto her which were none of his business. The\\npoet was quick to reply\\nSon. ^8. That god who made me first your slave\\nThe text in line 8, besides being ungrammatical, is so gross that\\nit must be corrupt. The lady is told that her lips have played\\nfalse as oft as mine my lips) have rob d others beds,\\nrevenues of their rents, which has no sense. What the poet meant\\nto say, I think, was, that she had no right to reproach him on the sub-\\nject of kissing, because her lips had doubtless offended, as often as\\nhis lips had robbed the best revenues of the lips of their proper dues.\\nWhich must have been Cupid, as there never was a god of", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0158.jp2"}, "159": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 145\\nforbid that I should ever attempt to control your times\\nof pleasure. Being merely your vassal, I have nothing\\nto do but to wait upon your leisure, and suffer during\\nthe enforced absence your liberty imposes upon me,\\nwithout the least desire to accuse you of any intentional\\ninjury. Be where you may, your charter of freedom\\nis so strong that you are privileged to do as you like,\\nand ask pardon of nobody but yourself. My duty is\\nsimply to wait and, though that waiting be a sort of hell,\\nnot to question your conduct, whether it be good or ill.\\nThe poet is particularly adroit in his assault\\nwhen he asks the coy dame whether in her\\nvarious wanderings she purposely haunted him,\\nby visiting his slumbers.\\nSon. 61. Is it thy wish, that thine image should keep\\nmy eyes open during the whole of the heavy night\\nDost thou really desire to break my slumbers by mock-\\ning shadows of thyself Dost thou send thy spirit away\\nfrom home, to pry into my doings, and discover how I\\nmay happen to be employed in my idle hours Is that\\nthe scope and tenor of thy jealousy? Ah, no, I cannot\\nthink so for, although thou mayst have some regard\\nfor me, thy love is not capable of that it is my own\\nearnest love that keeps my eyes on the alert and defeats\\nevery attempt at repose, causing me to play the watch-\\nman for thy sake, and particularly when thou art away,\\ntoo far from me, and all too near to others.\\nThere it goes again, we can almost hear the\\ndetected coquette exclaim, always spying into\\nfriendship. This line alone ought to have instructed the critics that\\nthese Sonnets concerned a woman and not a man.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0159.jp2"}, "160": {"fulltext": "146 A New Study of\\nmy affairs If I choose to be agreeable to\\nothers, it concerns me alone and your insinu-\\nations are impertinent. But, rejoins the poet,\\nSon. 57. As I am your admitted slave, what should I\\ndo but look a little into your ways I have no time to\\nwaste, nor services to render, but such as you require.\\nNor dare I, my sovereign, chide the tedious hours whilst\\nI am watching the clock for you. When you have once\\nbid your servant adieu, he does not dwell upon the bit-\\nterness of the absence he has no jealous thought, as to\\nwhere you may be, or conjecture as to how you are\\noccupied. I think of nothing save the happiness of those\\nfortunate enough to be where you are Love is such a\\nfool that it thinks no ill of anything that you like to do.\\nIt was now time for the lady to have her say,\\nand, as we may suppose, she tells him that it was\\nall very well for him to write in his effusive\\nway he was a poet, and poets liked to scrib-\\nble, even if it were about their delusions. She\\ndoubted very much, in spite of his rhapsodies,\\nwhether he cared a fig for her (which was\\nthe coquettish way of drawing him further on).\\nHe rejoins\\nSon. 14Q. O cruel, how canst thou say that I do not\\nlove thee when I give so many evidences to the con-\\ntrary Do I not take thy part against myself do I not\\nthink of thee, when in my absorption I forget myself\\nWho dislikes thee that I call friend, or whom do I favor\\nthat receives thy frown Nay, if thou lowerest upon", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0160.jp2"}, "161": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 147\\nme do I not moan Or what merit is there in me that\\nI should esteem it if it were too proud to do thee a ser-\\nvice All that is best in me worships even thy defects,\\ncommanded by the glances of thine eyes. But, love,\\nnow I know thou lovest those that can see, while in my\\npassion I am blind.\\nIt is perhaps worthy of remark that in this\\nprotestation, the poet uses many of the same\\nthoughts that he afterwards put into the mouth\\nof Queen Katharine, in her defence against\\nHenry VIII.\\nAt some time or another in the course of\\nhis gallant attentions, the poet had reason to\\nsuspect, or he pretended to suspect, that his\\nlady was casting her eyes with a little too\\nmuch earnestness in another direction, and he\\nbegan to query with himself whether his lik-\\nings were altogether well founded. Others\\nwere less favorably impressed by his inamor-\\nata than he was himself and he writes\\nSon. 148. Ah, me, what eyes hath love put in my\\nhead, to regard that as attractive which the world says\\nis not so But if it be not so, what has become of my\\njudgment Love s eye (aye) is not so true as all men s\\nno but how can it be true, when it is perturbed by\\nwatching and tears Even the sun on high cannot see\\nclearly until the heavens be free of clouds. No wonder,\\nthen, if I should be mistaken Ah, cunning love, thou\\nkeepest me blind, lest my eyes, by seeing better, should\\ndiscover some of thy ugly faults.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0161.jp2"}, "162": {"fulltext": "148 A New Study of\\nThis rival, unknown as yet, the poet chose\\nto consider a forerunner of Diomed who\\ncould seemingly draw off in order to draw on,\\nand he charges the lady with taking the lead\\nin the chase. He writes\\nSon. 143. Lo like a careful housekeeper, who runs\\nto catch one of her feathered pets that has broken away,\\nand sets down her baby, to make more haste, and get at\\nthe thing she would have, shamefully regardless of her\\ninfant s cries of discontent, thou dost run after that\\nwhich flies from thee, and the poor child is left far be-\\nhind Well, if thou shouldst succeed in catching thy\\nhope, turn back to me, and be a true mother, kiss and\\nbe kind once more and then I shall pray that thou\\nmayst have thy Will, and still my loud sobs.\\nIt was not long, however, before the poet dis-\\ncovered that this rival in devotion to the fair\\none was a particular and dear friend, whom\\nhe seems to have commended to the lady s\\nacquaintance and favor. Supposing the love\\nof the new admirer to be of the same nature\\nwith his own, he playfully rallied them both.\\nTo the lady he said\\n(j) A Remonstrance to the Lady.\\nSon. ijj. The mischief take that heart which com-\\npels mine to suffer because of the wound it gives,\\nboth to my friend and myself. Was it not enough to\\n^Troilus and Cressida, (v., 2. 30-60).", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0162.jp2"}, "163": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 149\\ntorture me alone by thy caprices and disdains, but that\\nthou must now subject my friend to thy cruel slavery?\\nThine eye has torn me from myself it has taken away\\nmy next self, and I am bereft of him, of myself, and\\nof thee, by which I am thrice crossed and made to en-\\ndure a threefold torment. Emprison my heart in thy\\nsteel bosom, if thou art inclined, but let it be as a bail\\nfor my friend s heart thou wilt not then use rigor\\nagainst him as I shall be his guard. Yet I fear thou wilt,\\nfor I being pent in thee, I and all that is in me are thine\\nperforce e., to be used at thy pleasure).\\nIn this same tone of half banter and half\\nremonstrance, the poet goes on to say\\nSo7t. 132. Now that I have confessed the winning of\\nmy friend from me, even v/hile I am still mortgaged to\\nthy love, let me add, that I will forfeit myself wholly, if\\nthou wilt restore him to me, to be my comfort again.\\nBut that I am persuaded thou wilt not do for thou art\\ncovetous of admiration, and he is amiable and the re-\\nsult will be that as he entered into the affair as a surety\\nfor my truth and the certainty of my attachment, thou\\nwilt have both in thy bonds, and remorseless usurer as\\nthou art, thou wilt exact the full penalty of the double\\nobligation thy beauty has imposed. Thou wilt keep the\\nfriend who came only as a debtor for my sake, and I\\nshall lose him because I have been most unkindly de-\\nceived. I have lost him, but thou hast still both him\\nand me and though he has paid the whole debt, yet I\\nam not released.\\nThe line in the Quarto reads A torment thrice threefold,\\nthus to be crossed, which is bad rhythm, but may be easily cor-\\nrected, if we say, A threefold torment, thus to be thrice crossed.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0163.jp2"}, "164": {"fulltext": "I50 A New Study of\\nA Friendly Remonstrance zuith the Friend.\\nTowards his young rival the poet was no\\nless lenient, and simply rallied him upon his suc-\\ncess, not yet knowing how far the liaison had\\nadvanced. He writes\\nSon. 41. The pretty wrongs pretty, not serious, it\\nwill be seen thy liberty commits, are not unsuited to\\nthy beauty and youth, which are both a temptation to\\nthe sex. Since thou art handsome, thou art likely to be\\npursued, and since thou art young, likely to be won. What\\nwoman s son will leave a woman until she have pre-\\nvailed Ah, me, and yet thou mightest have forborne to\\ninvade the place I occupy, and even rebuked a seduc-\\ntion which is leading thee into a riot in which thou art\\nforced to break a double truth first, hers, by tempting\\nher to thee, and second, thine own, in being false to me.\\nSon. 42. It is not the whole of my grief that thou\\nhast won her affections, although I loved her very much\\nmy chief complaint is that she has won thine, a loss that\\ntouches me most nearly yet, loving offenders, I see how\\nit is I will find an excuse for both thou lovest her be-\\ncause thou knowest I love her, and she deceives me and\\nsuffers my friend to approve her for my sake. If I lose\\nthee, my loss is my love s gain, and if I lose her, my\\nPalgrave uses the word petty, in the sense of small or incon-\\nsiderable.\\nThe Quarto here has my seat, which some critics construe in\\nthe gross and offensive sense given to the words in Othello (i., 2,. 304)\\nbut as the offence in the first line is called pretty or petty,\\nthat can hardly be vs^hat is intended. Steevens suggests my sweet,\\nbut my own opinion is that seat here is used simply for the place\\nthat is already occupied.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0164.jp2"}, "165": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 151\\nfriend profits by my loss. Both of you find each other,\\nand I lose both and both for my sake lay on me a double\\ncross and yet the great joy of it all is, that my friend\\nand I are one, and so, sweet flattery, she loves but me\\nalone.\\nThere seems to have been no end to the\\npoet s kindUness, and he adds\\nSon. 40. Take all my loves, my dear friend, yes, take\\nthem all, and thou wouldst have no more love than thou\\nhast had before. All my heart was thine without this\\naddition. If it be from love to me that thou receivest\\nthis new love, thou art not to be blamed yet thou\\nwouldst deserve to be blamed if thou wilfully seek love\\nwhich thou dost not appreciate. I forgive thy robbery,\\ngentle thief, although thou stealest from my poverty, and\\nthou must know that a wrong done to love is worse than\\nan injury.\\nCrossing the Barriers^ or a Change of\\nTo7ie.\\nThere is no reason to beheve, from anything\\nto be found in the Sonnets themselves, that\\nthe relations of the parties concerned were, up\\nto a certain time, other than those of fashion-\\nable gallantry. But to our surprise we come\\nupon a sonnet which compels us to the conclu-\\nThe play in the couplet upon the reciprocity or single-double\\nownership of love is the same as Portia s when she says to Bassanio\\nOne half of me is yours, th other half yours\\nMine own, I would say, but, if mine, then yours.\\nAnd so all yours. Merchant of Venice (iii., 216).", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0165.jp2"}, "166": {"fulltext": "152 A New Study of\\nsion that a great change has taken place. It\\nshows that the poet was far more deeply inter-\\nested than he had supposed, and when con-\\nvinced of the insincerity of his mistress, had\\nhimself thrown off all restraint and pushed his\\nsuit beyond the bounds. Chided then by the\\nlady, after the manner of such, for having vio-\\nlated his honor and taken advantage of his\\nprivileges, he defends his course in this some-\\nwhat equivocal way\\nSon. i^i. Love, or Passion, is too young, impetuous,\\nand reckless, to care about conscience, or right and wrong,\\nalthough we know that conscience is born of the love\\nof truth and justice. But, gentle gamester, do not push\\nthy accusations too far, lest it should turn out in the end\\nthat thou wert thyself the instigator of the offence.\\nThou having betrayed me, I betray myself, and give the\\nreins to impulse rather than to reason. The soul informs\\nthe body that he may now triumph, and flesh wishes no\\nother sanction than opportunity. Excited by thy name,\\nit has selected thee as the prize of its triumph and it is\\nso proud of its success that it is willing hereafter to be-\\ncome thy drudge. I will share thy fortunes, whatever\\nthe result, rise with thee or fall with thee, as it may\\nhappen, but do not call it a want of conscience that\\nI am willing to carry my devotion to this extreme.\\nBut the poet is a little surprised at his own\\nreadiness to surrender all, and does not find it\\neasy to account for what proved an infatuation.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0166.jp2"}, "167": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 153\\nSon. ijo. Oh, from what source hast thou the won-\\nderful power which subdues me even by thy insufficien-\\ncies causing me to give the lie to what I see plainly, and to\\nswear that even the brightness of the day is no grace\\nWhence hast thou this art of burnishing bad things so,\\nthat in the worst of thy deeds I find such strength and\\nassurance of skill Who taught thee how to make me\\nlove thee the more I discover just cause for hate Yet,\\nthough I love what others abhor, I do not partake of their\\nabhorrence for if thy unworthiness has moved my love,\\nthe more worthy am I to be beloved.\\nThe poet is now fully alive to the fact that\\nwhile he was playing the gallant, he was getting\\nmore and more absorbed in the object of his\\nattentions, so that when he had discovered posi-\\ntive grounds for breaking the connection alto-\\ngether, he found himself the more enthralled.\\nSon. 147. My love is like a fever, longing for that\\nwhich may nourish the disease, and so preserving it by\\nwhat it feeds on, the uncertain and sickly appetite to\\nplease one who is not worth pleasing. My reason, the\\nphysician of my love, angry because his prescriptions are\\nnot observed, has left me, and I desperately cherish a\\ndesire, which, by rejecting its proper physic, is death.\\nPast cure I am, since reason is past care, and almost\\nfrantic with an ever-increasing unrest. My thought and\\nmy discourse, like those of a madman, are roving at ran-\\ndom from the truth, to which I endeavor in vain to give\\nutterance. In proof of this, have I not sworn that thou\\nart fair, when thou art as ugly as sin, and have I not\\nthought thee bright, when thou art as black as night", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0167.jp2"}, "168": {"fulltext": "154 A New Study of\\nHow distracted the poet was we see in the\\nuncertainties of conviction betrayed by the\\nnext poem. He writes\\nSon. 144. I have two objects of attachment, alternately\\nof comfort and despair, which solicit me like two attend-\\ning spirits the better one is a man of rare fascination,\\nand the worse a woman of dark complexion (intimating\\nthat it expressed her character, too). To lure me the\\nsooner into her hell, the female evil tempts my better angel\\nfrom my side, for her pride is capable of corrupting a\\nsaint into a devil, but whether he who was once my\\nangel has already been changed into a fiend I do not yet\\nknow I only suspect it without being able to say it out-\\nright nor, as they are both away from me, and close\\nfriends one to another, shall I probably ever get beyond\\na guess, until the bad one, by the ardor of her passion,\\nhas fired the good one out or completely driven him\\naway.\\n(6) A Rehtrn to Sanity.\\nAt length the poet becomes fully aware of\\nhis delusion and sees clearly whither it is lead-\\ning him, and he says to the soul which had\\nwhispered its treason to the senses, that, bet-\\nter for the body to pine and perish than for\\nthe soul to suffer. Death can claim the body\\nonly as its price, and in subduing the body the\\nsoul triumphs over death.\\nSon. 146. Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth,\\nThis sonnet has in the second line my sinful earth these rebel\\npowers that thee array, evidently a misprint, in which the end of the", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0168.jp2"}, "169": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 155\\nassailed by rebel powers, why dost thou starve within and\\nsuffer dearth while adorning thy -outward walls with\\nsuch costly gayety Why lavish so much feeling and\\ncare upon a mansion which is of short lease, and soon\\nmust decay Shall worms, the inheritors of this excess\\neat up the burden thou hast brought upon thee Is\\nthis the end of the body, then, O soul, live upon thy\\nservant s loss, and let that starve, to increase thy store.\\nBuy a divine term by selling an hour of dross be fed\\nwithin, and without be rich no more, and thereby feed\\non death itself (natural death) which once ended there\\ncan be no spiritual death.\\n(Y A Second Recourse to the Friend.\\nThe poet, having discovered the entire com-\\npHcity of his friend in the offence of the lady,\\nis naturally indignant, but remembering the\\nyouth and attractions of the young man, and\\nthe subtle seductions of the woman, is not dis-\\nposed to be severe in his rebukes of the\\nformer.\\nfirst line has run over upon the second. Many substitutes, such as\\nfamished by, besieged, pressed, hemmed in, etc., have\\nbeen proposed, but none is needed if we leave out the words that\\nthee, and read\\nMy sinful earth, that rebel powers array,\\nusing array in the sense, which it often bears, of assail.\\nThe Quarto has pine within, meaning waste, as in Richard II.\\n(v., I, 2). Wliere shivering cold and sickness pine the clime,\\nand sometimes, meaning starve {Venus and Adonis, 602).\\nEven as poor birds, deceiv d by painted grapes,\\nDo surfeit by the eye and pine the maw,", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0169.jp2"}, "170": {"fulltext": "156 A New Study of\\nSon. pjr. How sweet and lovely dost thou render even\\nthe shame which, like a canker in a fragrant rose, spots\\nthe beauty of thy budding nature Oh, in what sweet-\\nness dost thou enclose thy offences The tongue that\\nshall tell the story of thy sport with lascivious comments,\\nshall find its dispraise in a kind of praise, and that the\\nmere use of thy name will give a sort of blessing to an\\nill report. Oh, what a mansion do these vices possess,\\nwhich have chosen thee for their habitation, where the\\nveil of beauty covers every blot, and all things the eye\\nlooks upon turn to fairness. But take heed, dear heart,\\nof the large privilege thus given to thee, lest thy better\\nsense should be blunted by the idle use of thy charms, as\\nthe best tempered knife will lose its edge when abused.\\nThe poet continues in his forgiving mood\\nand writes\\nSon. g6. Some persons ascribe thy faults to thy\\nyouth, and some to sheer wantonness, but the sad fact\\nis, that thy faults themselves put on the aspect of graces,\\nin the estimates of many, both high and low, who make\\nno distinction between the two. As the basest jewel on\\nthe finger of an enthroned queen is well esteemed, so are\\nthy errors translated into truths. But how many lambs\\nmight the fierce wolf betray if he could only make him-\\nself look like a lamb, and how many gazers couldst thou\\nlead astray if thou didst but use thy whole strength\\nFinding, in the course of time, that his re-\\nproofs, gentle as they were, had become a\\nsource of great dejection to the young man,\\nthe poet further relents and begs him not to", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0170.jp2"}, "171": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 157\\ngrieve too much over the wrong that he had\\ncommitted.\\nSon. J5. Roses have thorns, clouds and eclipses stain\\nboth sun and moon, and the most loathsome cankers\\nseek out the loveliest buds. All men have their faults,\\nand even I, in finding comparisons for thy trespass, as\\nI am now doing, corrupt myself in trying to salve it\\nover. Excusing thy sin even beyond what is necessary,\\nwhereby thine adverse party, good sense, becomes a sort\\nof advocate of thy sensuality, I begin a plea against my-\\nself, and make myself an accessory to the sweet thief by\\nwhom I have been robbed.\\nBut this estrangement, for which the poet\\ntook too much blame, perhaps, to himself,\\nweighed upon the friend s mind until he en-\\ndeavored to bring about a reconciliation. The\\npoet responds, most generously\\nSon. 120. That you were once unkind befriends me\\nin this exigency, and the sorrow which I then felt because\\nof it must needs incline me, since my nerves are not made\\nof brass or hammered steel, to admit my later transgres-\\nsion. If you are now shaken by my protracted unkindness,\\nas I formerly was by yours, I know that you have passed a\\ntime of intense mental torment, whilst I have behaved\\nlike a tyrant in giving no sign of what I had suffered by\\nyour conduct. Oh that our common night of woe had\\nreminded us both, in the deepest sense, how hard the\\nblows inflicted by true sorrow fall, so that I to you, and\\nyou to me, had tendered that humble salve of forgive-\\nness which best befits a wounded bosom. Your trespass,", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0171.jp2"}, "172": {"fulltext": "158 A New Study of\\nthen, was a fee paid for the ransom of mine, as mine is a\\nfee paid for the ransom of yours we have done an in-\\njury one to the other, let the one offset the other, and\\nfor the future may forgiveness and reconciliation prevail.\\n(8) Farewell to the Woman.\\nTo the woman the poet, while fully recog-\\nnizing her offences, was no less generous, tak-\\ning the greater share of blame to himself\\nSon. 1^2. Thou knowest that in loving thee I as a\\nmarried man am forsworn but thou art twice for-\\nsworn, once, by breaking thy marital vows, and again\\nby thy infidelity to me. Yet how can I reproach thee\\nfor the violation of two oaths, when I am guilty of the\\nbreach of twenty Of the two of us 1 am the more per-\\njured, for, since all honest faith in thee was lost, my\\noaths have been so many deceptions. I have sworn to\\nthy kindness, to thy truth, and to thy constancy, and\\nhave given eyes even to blindness in order to place thee\\nin a brighter light, and yet in every case I have sworn\\nagainst a better knowledge.^\\nBut the time had come for a final separa-\\ntion, and the poet wrote thus\\nSon. 87. Farewell thou art too dear for my possess-\\ning, e., thou hast cost me too much in anxiety and\\nWe can scarcely believe that Prof. Dowdenhad read this sonnet,\\nwhen he says of it that it makes the woman as guilty or even more\\nguilty, than the poet, since the single object of the poet is to put\\nthe chief blame upon himself she had violated two oaths, but he\\nhad violated twenty.\\nIt is not a common locution to speak of possessing a man.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0172.jp2"}, "173": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 159\\nsorrow for the continuance of our relations and it is\\nprobable that thou art conscious of the estimation in\\nwhich thou art held. Thy youth is a privilege that en-\\ntitles thee to release, whilst my claim upon thee is\\nlimited. How do I hold thee at all, except by thine own\\nconcession, which is gratuitous, and nothing in me justi-\\nfies such a gift. Thou gavest me thyself,* not knowing\\nthine own value, or else mistaking me on whom the wealth\\nwas conferred. Founded on a misconception, thy favor is\\nnow, on a better judgment, going back to its source. I\\nhave had thee simply as a king has a flattering dream in\\nhis sleep, which, on awaking, proves to be nothing at\\nall, or nothing more than a dream.*\\nShakespeare s readiness to forgive rather\\nthan punish wrongs, of which we have instan-\\nces in the Two Geritlemen of Verona^ Measiire\\nfor Measure^ All s Well, Cymbeliney the Win-\\nter s Tale and The Tempest, has been imputed\\nto him by some critics as a weakness of moral\\njudgment his sympathy for the criminal, they\\nallege, overcomes his detestation of the crime.\\nIt should be remembered, however, that\\nShakespeare had a deeper insight into life, as\\na web of mingled yarn, of good and ill\\nThe Quarto reads the charter of thy worth, meaning, I think,\\nof thy youth. The word charter came to mean a privilege.\\nSee Sonnet 6i, where it is so used.\\n2 Thou gavest me thyself may be said of a woman but not of a\\nman.\\nHow ineffably absurd all this would seem, if we supposed it ad-\\ndressed to a young man, while, addressed to a young woman, it is\\nfull of a large-hearted tenderness.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0173.jp2"}, "174": {"fulltext": "i6o A New Study of\\ntogether, than others, and was able to dis-\\ntribute his approval or disapproval between\\nthe parties to an action with a more perfect\\nimpartiality. Like Prospero, he could say\\nThough with their high wrongs, I am struck to the\\nquick,\\nYet with my nobler reason gainst my fury\\nDo I take part the rarer action is\\nIn virtue than in vengeance.\\nTempest {y.^ i, 25).\\nThat he was not indifferent to the character\\nof the offence in the present case is shown by\\nthat terrible denunciation of it, in which a\\nvolume of meaning is condensed into fourteen\\nlines.\\nSon. I2g. Lust in action is the plunging of the\\nbetter part of one s nature in a pool of filth. Even in\\ncontemplation it is false, malignant, destructive, and\\nloathsome. Yea, it is savage, reckless, brutal, and re-\\npulsive. It is no sooner enjoyed than it is despised.\\nPast reason hunted and past reason hated, it is a mad-\\nness in pursuit and a madness in possession. As past,\\npresent, and to come alike an extreme a joy in prospect,\\na woe in retrospect. All men know this well, and yet\\nthey do not shun it, but seek a seeming heaven which\\nonly leads to actual hell.\\n(p) A Glance towards Home.\\nMeanwhile, what has become of the sweet\\nAnne, of whose charms we read such tender", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0174.jp2"}, "175": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare i6i\\nrecords a few pages back She was far off in\\nthe country, caring for the children, and un-\\nconscious of what was going on in the great\\ncity. But was she kept in ignorance of the\\naffair I think not. The poet, though self-in-\\ndulgent and misled by his passions, was an\\nhonest fellow, after all, and sooner or later con-\\nfessed his offence with all proper promises of\\nrepentance and amendment. Not a few tears\\nwere doubtless shed by the wife, but she knew\\nthe worth of the man, and in due time for-\\ngave him, as women will forgive. In this\\ncondition of things, the poet wrote this appeal\\nSon. log. Oh never say that I was false at heart,\\nwhatever my aberrations may have been I might as\\neasily depart from my own inmost self, as from my soul,\\nwhich is enclosed in thy bosom. That is the real home\\nof my love, and if I have wandered, like one who travels\\nabroad, I have returned again, bringing the waters of\\ntrue repentance to wash away my stain. Oh do not\\nbelieve, though in my nature reigned all kinds of frail-\\nties, that I could be so preposterously wrenched as to\\nleave for nothing the sum of all good for there is nothing\\nin the wide universe but thee, my Rose, and thou art to\\nme (as I wrote of old, see Son, 31), the all in all.\\nNor was this a mere plea in abatement to\\nthe injured one, for in a general summing-up\\nof the affair, made to himself, he uses even\\nstronger language. He says", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0175.jp2"}, "176": {"fulltext": "1 62 A New Study of\\nSon. iig. What potions have I drunk of siren tears,\\ndistilled from limbecks foul as hell within, alternating\\nfea i:s with hopes and hopes with fears, and losing all in the\\nvery moment of victory What wretched errors has\\nmy heart entertained, even when it thought itself most\\nhappy? How have my eyes been wrenched from their\\nsockets in the fits of a delirious fever And yet there is\\nsome benefit even in evil, for I find that the better can\\nbe made still better by it, and that love which has been\\nruined, when it is builded anew, grows fairer, and\\nstronger, and broader than it was at first. Therefore if\\nI return rebuked to the one source of my contentment, I\\nhave gained by means of the evil more than I have lost.\\nShakespeare did not mean by this philos-\\nophy, which is very profound, I think, that we\\nshould deliberately do wrong in order to reap\\nthe benefits of a recovery. But he saw that\\nwhile the existence of evil is a great mystery,\\nit is a still greater mystery that out of the\\nstruggle against it should come a higher good\\nthan that which the evil destroyed. The effort\\nto overcome a fall in morals produces qualities\\nwe should not have had without the necessity\\nfor the effort. Indeed, may we not infer in\\nShakespeare s own case that his temporary\\nlapses in the sad experiences of the episode\\nhad helped to open his mind to a discernment\\nof what is true, lovely, and divine in female\\ncharacter, which he would not have otherwise", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0176.jp2"}, "177": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 163\\nhad In his earlier plays, the princesses of\\nLoves Labor s Lost, the Julia and Sylvia in\\nthe Two Gentlemen of Verona, the Adrian a,\\netc., of the Comedy of Errors, though not\\ncommonplace women, are simply pleasing and\\nnothing more. But soon we meet in his books\\nwith Juliet, Portia, Viola, Rosalind, Beatrice,\\nDesdemona, the second Portia, the old\\nCountess of Roussillon, Cordelia, Perdita,\\nHermione, Miranda, Imogen, in short, with\\ntwenty or more female types that outnumber\\nand excel all that Grecian, Italian, or Spanish\\ngenius had given us before. Even modern\\nfiction, filled as it is with female loveliness,\\nfrom Fielding and Richardson to de Balzac,\\nSir Walter Scott, Thackeray, Dickens, and\\nGeorge Eliot, has not attained the height or\\nfulness of Shakespeare.^\\nI have treated these sonnets as if they were\\ntranscripts of reality, because there is an ear-\\nnestness and depth of feeling in most of them\\nwhich it seems to me could only have come\\nfrom experience. By this I do not mean,\\nNone the less, George Brandes, in his recent volumes on the\\npoet, has the temerity to contend that there was a time when\\nShakespeare was a complete misogamist although there is scarcely\\na play of his, written after his first period, in which some woman\\ndoes not shine forth, even in the murkiest of atmospheres as an\\nangel direct from heaven.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0177.jp2"}, "178": {"fulltext": "1 64 A New Study of\\nhowever, that the sonnets, as we have them\\nnow, were actually sent by the poet to the per-\\nsons they concern. Affairs of the kind are\\nnot commonly handled in that way. What I\\ndo mean is that the various situations disclosed\\nwere not wholly imaginary, pure inventions\\nof the writer, but real events, which the\\npoet, according to his plan, revealed in Sonnet\\nturned into verse afterwards, as a memorial\\nof a most important and instructive part of\\nhis life. Poets, in all ages, from Anacreon\\nand Horace, to Goethe Burns, and Byron, have\\nbeen particularly susceptible to the tender pas-\\nsion, but have not always been careful as to its\\nmetes and bounds.\\nWe have, perhaps, a gleam of historical evi-\\ndence as to a real experience lying back of\\nthese sonnets in a book called Willobies\\nAvisa, published in 1594, a few months later\\nthan Shakespeare s Rape of Lucrece, where\\nhe is mentioned as the author of that volume.^\\nOnly a few copies of this book were printed in 1880, under the\\neditorship of Dr. Grosart. For a sight of one of these (No. 97)\\nI am indebted to the kindness of my accomplished friend, Horace\\nHoward Furness, the editor of the fine new Variorum. The original\\ntitle-page reads Willobie, his Avisa, a true picture of a modest\\nmaid, and of a chaste and constant wife. Imprinted at London,\\nby John Windet, 1594. In addition to the main poem, this later\\nvolume has three others, an Atrologie, 1596; The Victory of\\nEnglish Chastity, 1596 and Penelope s Complaint, 1596.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0178.jp2"}, "179": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 165\\nIn some prefatory verses by Abel Emel, or\\nHeremelon, it says\\nYet Tarquyne pluckt his glistening grape\\nAnd Shakespeare paints poor Lucrece s rape.\\nThis was the first time Shakespeare s name\\nhad appeared in print, outside of his own\\nworks.\\nWhat deserves note in A visa, is a prose in-\\ntroduction to Canto XLIV., which contains\\nthis singular passage H. W. [Henry Wil-\\nlobie] being sodenly affected with the conta-\\ngeon of a fantastical fit, at the first sight of\\nA[visa] pyneth a while in secret griefe, at\\nlength not able any longer to endure the burn-\\ning heate of so feruent a humour, bewrayeth\\nthe secrecy of his disease unto a familiar\\nfrend. W. S. [supposed to be William Shake-\\nspeare] who not long before had tryed the\\ncurtesy of the like passion, and was now newly\\nrecovered of the infection yet finding his\\nfrend let bloud in the same vaine, he took\\npleasure for a tyme to see him bleed in\\nsteed of stopping the issue he inlargeth the\\nwound, with the sharp razor of a willing con-\\nceit, perswading him that he thought it a mat-\\nter very easy to be compassed, no doubt with\\npayne, diligence, in some cost of tyme to be\\nobtayned. Thus, this miserable comforter,", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0179.jp2"}, "180": {"fulltext": "1 66 A New Study of\\ncomforting his frend with an impossibilitie,\\neyther for that he now would secretly laugh\\nat his frends folly that had giuen not long\\nbefore unto others to laugh at his owne, or\\nbecause he would see whether another could\\nplay his part better than himselfe. in vew-\\ning a far off the course of the louing Comedy,\\ndetermined to see whether it would sort to\\na happier end for this new actor than it did for\\nthe old player, c.\\nDr. Grosart is of opinion that the W. S.\\nhere means Shakespeare for several reasons\\namong them the familiar and friendly tone of\\nthe allusion in the commendatory verse the\\nobvious implications of the Introduction a\\ncertain correspondence between the advice he\\ngives and the sentiment of some of his son-\\nnets, and the fact that, by his Venus and\\nAdonis he had become a sort of poetical au-\\nthority in affairs of the heart. These are per-\\nhaps slender grounds for the inference, but\\nthe discussion has an interest of curiosity,\\nwhich justifies a passing attention.\\nVI. THE poet s communion WITH THE\\nHIGHER MUSE.\\nIn all ages of the world the human mind has\\nbeen disposed to refer its states of unusual", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0180.jp2"}, "181": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 167\\nexaltation to an influence or agency, superior to\\nitself and yet a part of itself. Not only poets\\nand artists but orators and religious enthusiasts\\ncredit their moments of inspiration, as they are\\ncalled, to this mysterious source. Among the\\nancients the Greeks created a whole new realm\\nof gods and goddesses, the golden brood of\\ngreat Apollo s wit, who presided over every in-\\nterest of humanity. They had their Muses of\\npoetry, of history, of the drama, of the dance,\\nand of domestic life, etc. And a good deal of\\nthis mythology has, in spite of revolutions of\\nthought and manners in other respects, sur-\\nvived up to the present time. Every poetaster\\nstill has a muse, which he invokes with a fervor\\ninversely proportioned to the state of his\\npocket. In Shakespeare s day the Muses were\\nso far extant that Spenser, in his Teares of the\\nMuses, assumes that they are still consulting\\nwith each other, and deploring with tears and\\nlamentation the decay of all real learning.\\nBeyond and above these traditionary genii,\\ncertain of the greater poets have had each a ge-\\nnius of his own, to which he could pray for\\nassistance as he might need. Three thousand\\nyears ago old Homer began Oh, Goddess,\\nsing, sing the wrath of Peleus s son, the deadly\\nwrath that brought unnumbered wars upon the", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0181.jp2"}, "182": {"fulltext": "1 68 A New Study of\\nGreeks, and swept so many souls to Hades.\\nVirgil, following Homer, cried like him to the\\ncelestial deities, and in the Middle Ages, when\\nVirgil had been deified, he was the tutelary\\nguide and inspirer of Dante. In more recent\\ntimes the austere Milton was not satisfied with\\nanything less than that celestial light which on\\nthe top of Horeb and of Sinai shone, asking it\\nto irradiate his soul in all its parts, that he\\nmight see and tell of things invisible to mortal\\nsight. Goethe, too, in a general introduction\\nto his poems, informs us of an angelic form\\nwho had given him the choicest gifts of earth,\\nand poured into his burning heart the balm of\\na heavenly rest.^ Every modern reader, in this\\nconnection, will recall Shelley s magnificent\\nHymn to Intellectual Beauty, in which he\\navers that\\nThe awful shadow of some unseen power floats,\\nthough unseen, among us, visiting this various world\\nwith an inconstant wing like summer wind that creeps\\nfrom flower to flower, most dear, yet dearer for its\\nmystery.\\nShelley appeals to this power as\\nThe spirit of beauty, that doth consecrate with thine\\nown hues all thou dost shine upon of human thought or\\nform.\\nThe Peace, as we shall see hereafter, that Shakespeare desired.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0182.jp2"}, "183": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 169\\nWordsworth, poet of nature as he was, yet\\ncalled upon Urania for guidance, or a gentler\\nMuse, if such descend to earth, or dwell in\\nhighest heaven. This he felt as a Presence\\nthat disturbed him with the joy of elevated\\nthought,\\nWhose dwelling is the light of setting suns,\\nAnd the round ocean, and the living air\\nAnd the blue sky, and in the Mind of Man.\\nOr, better still for our purpose, is a sonnet of\\nTennyson, published in his edition of 1835,\\nwhich is also an address to Beauty\\nO Beauty, passing Beauty sweetest sweet\\nHow canst thou let me waste my youth in sighs\\nI only ask to sit beside thy feet,\\nThou knowest I dare not look into thine eyes.\\nMight I but kiss thy hand I dare not fold\\nMy arms about thee scarcely dare I speak.\\nAnd nothing seems to me so wild and bold\\nAs with one kiss to touch thy blessed cheek.\\nMethinks if I should kiss thee, no control\\nWithin the thrilling brain could keep afloat\\nThe subtle spirit. Even while I spoke,\\nThe bare word kiss hath made my inmost soul\\nTo tremble like a lute-string ere the note\\nHath melted in the silence that it broke.\\nYou will remark that the poet here has\\nmade the quality of Beauty not only an ideal,\\nbut an actual living person endowed with", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0183.jp2"}, "184": {"fulltext": "I70 A New Study of\\nnearly every human attribute. It has a form\\nwhich he can fold in his arms, eyes to look\\ninto, hands to touch, cheeks and lips to kiss,\\nand a soul to which his own inmost soul is akin,\\nbut of which in its awful perfection he scarcely\\nventures to think.\\nNow, Shakespeare, the prince of poets, was\\nno exception to the generality of poets in\\neither of these respects. He has recognized\\nthe ordinary muses more than seventeen times\\nin the Sonnets themselves once as all the\\nmuses, and the old nine, once as a muse\\nbelonging to another poet, and in other in-\\nstances as his own. So, in a play he refers\\nto the Thrice three Muses, dead in poverty\\nand in the chorus to Henry V. he demands\\na Muse of Fire to ascend the highest heaven\\nof invention, or of imagination. It would have\\nbeen strange, indeed, if the creator of the\\nfairy world, who trod the heights where Hamlet\\nthought and Prospero put forth his weird\\nenchantments, had found no intimate compan-\\nion in that lofty realm. Yet such he possessed,\\nand it was to him what the goddesses were\\nto Homer and Virgil, or what the celestial\\nand intellectual lights have been to the\\nmoderns. If you ask what authority I have\\nfor this bold assertion, I answer, the poet s", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0184.jp2"}, "185": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 171\\nown words, addressing his ordinary, every-\\nday muse, and revealing a much higher Muse,\\nwhich scarcely admit of any other interpreta-\\ntion. Let me cite Sonnet 38, as it stands\\nHow can my Muse want subject to invent.\\nWhile Thou dost breathe, that pour st into my verse\\nThine own sweet argument, too excellent\\nFor every vulgar paper to rehearse\\nO, give Thyself the thanks, if aught in me\\nWorthy perusal stand against Thy sight\\nFor who s so dumb that cannot write to Thee,\\nWhen Thou Thyself dost give invention light\\nBe Thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth\\nThan those old nine which rimers invocate\\nAnd he that calls on Thee, let him bring forth\\nEternal numbers to outlive long date.\\nIf my slight Muse do please these curious days,\\nThe pain be mine, but Thine shall be the praise.\\nOne question here comes to the fore Who\\nis the Thou or Thee to whom the lines are\\ndirected? If we say, with the commentators\\nalmost en masse, the young personal friend\\nwe find in other sonnets, we run plump\\nagainst a most unusual and staggering assump-\\ntion. In all ages in which literature has\\naccepted such beings as muses, they have\\nbeen regarded as belonging to an ideal sphere,\\n^The Quarto has: These curious days, meaning fastidious or\\ncritical, as in AlVs Well That Ends IVell{i., 2, 20).", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0185.jp2"}, "186": {"fulltext": "172 A New Study of\\nand I think without exception were females.\\nBut here, according to Dowden and the others,\\nwe encounter for the first time a Muse who\\nwore a beard and went about in top-boots,\\na stalwart young fellow of flesh and blood\\nand the most unmistakable masculine propen-\\nsities, yet, none the less, a supreme source of\\npoetry, said to be ten times superior to any of\\nthe old nine, in their own line, and capable\\nof inspiring verses that will outlast all time.\\nWhat a preposterous exaggeration\\nIn more than fifty of the Sonnets, or one\\nthird of the whole set, the writer addresses\\nthis imaginary creation as a living person.\\nIts intimacy and favor he implores its dis-\\nfavor he deprecates it is his sweetest love,\\nhis dearest friend, and yet a frowning en-\\nemy it is his guide, his critic, and his judge,\\nwhose occasional caprices and desertions he\\nchides, though it be at one with beauty, truth,\\nand goodness, and the idea of it, as he said In\\none of his plays afterwards, did sweetly creep\\ninto the eye and body of his soul, with every\\nlovely organ apparelled in most precious habits,\\nmost moving-delicate, and full of life.\\nShakespeare, when he began to write, was\\nnot a scholar, as we have already shown, or, at\\nleast, not a classical scholar. He had read,", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0186.jp2"}, "187": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 173\\ndoubtless, all the popular literature of the time,\\nromances, chronicles, and folk-songs of every\\nkind, but he was not taught in the philosophy\\nof the poetic function. What is now called\\nthe Science of Esthetics was not yet a distinct\\nbranch of study, and the subject, so far as it\\nhad been treated at all in the vernacular, was\\nhandled in a superficial and perfunctory way,\\nas in Puttenham s Arte of English Poesie, and\\nSidney s Defence of Poesie. But on his arrival\\nin London, where he ran against the wits of\\nthe universities, who were full of scholastic\\nlearning and inclined to disputation, he began\\nto think of the nature and functions of that\\nimaginative power of which he was destined to\\nbe the most illustrious example.\\nI The Vision Divine.\\nIt was doubtless an intuition with him that as\\nall art must have two sides or aspects, a soul\\nand a body, the one ideal or imaginative, in\\nwhich insight, passion, and thought are domi-\\nnant, and the other practical, or executive, in\\nwhich language, measure, or rhythm are in-\\nvolved, the subject must be divided as Words-\\nworth has since divided it in The Vision and\\nthe Faculty Divine.\\nOur poet s earliest visions seem to have", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0187.jp2"}, "188": {"fulltext": "174 A New Study of\\ncome to him as dreams. He writes to the\\nHigher Muse thus\\nWhen most I wink, mine eyes see the best, for, while\\nin the daytime they view things without paying them\\nparticular attention, in the dreams of sleep they look on\\nThee and, though but partially illuminated, are brightly\\ndirected through the darkness. O Thou,* whose mere\\nimage or shadow lends brightness to the shades of the\\nnight, how pleasantly would the original, which casts\\nthe shadow, appear in the clear day with its much clearer\\nlight How blessed would mine eyes be made, I repeat,\\nsince in the dark and through heavy slumber Thy beauti-\\nful yet imperfect shape doth linger on my sightless orbs,\\nif they could behold Thee in a more living way. Indeed,\\nall days are nights to me until I look on Thee, and all\\nnights are days, when Thou comest to me even in\\ndreams\\nYet not alone in the night but in the day,\\nthe vision haunts the poet, and he recognizes it\\nin the ideaHsing tendency which is given to his\\nmind. He says\\nSon. 113. Since I have felt your influence,^ mine eye\\nis in my mind and that which governs me in going about,\\ndivides its functions, and is partly blind. It seems to\\nsee, but really does not see For there is no form which\\nIn several places Shakespeare uses wink as the synonym for\\nshutting the eyes, or excluding the external world.\\n^The Quarto has then thou, which impairs the grammar.\\nThe Quarto has, since I left you, which makes no sense, and\\nleft is probably the letters of felt transposed.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0188.jp2"}, "189": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 175\\nit transmits to the soul, whether bird or flower, or any-\\nthing else that it may seize, in the shaping of whose\\naspects the mind has no part it does not retain its own\\ndirect vision, for, be it the most ordinary object of\\nsight, the gentlest look or the rudest structure, the\\nmountain or the sea, the day or night, a crow or a dove,\\nit is instantly invested with Your features. Replete with\\nYou, and incapable of more, my most true mind or my\\nmind which is faithful to your inspirations renders my\\neyes untrue.\\nOr, the poet goes on to argue, may not\\nthis seeming dominance of the mind over the\\nsense be a sort of illusion, or self-imposition.\\nSon. 114. Or may it not be that the mind crown d,\\nor raised to a sort of royal consciousness by Your presence\\ndrinks in the monarch s common plague flattery Or,\\nshall I not rather say that while the eye sees correctly\\nenough, my love for You teaches it an alchemy which\\ntransforms the most monstrous and chaotic sights into\\nangelic shapes, thereby creating the very best out of\\nthe very worst I fear the first; I fear the flattery of\\nthe sense, and that my kingly mind swallows the bait\\nas the sense knows what is likely to agree with its taste,\\nThe Quarto uses latch in the sense of seizing or taking hold\\nof. See Macbeth (iv., 3, 195).\\nThe closing line of the Quarto has been a puzzle to the critics\\nMy most true mind maketh mine untrue. Collier suggested,\\nmaketh mine eyne untrue, which yields the sense as I give it in\\nthe paraphrases. The contrast is between the sight of the mind and\\nthe sight of the sense, and the poet avers that the former renders the\\nlatter uncertain. That this is his meaning is clear from the next son-\\nnet, in which he suggests that his eye may see true, and yet his\\nmind be exposed to illusions.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0189.jp2"}, "190": {"fulltext": "176 A New Study of\\nand prepares the cup for the palate. If that cup be\\nmixed with foul ingredients it is a smaller fault in the\\ninind to receive it, when the sense loves it and begins\\nthe imposition.\\nThis sonnet is exceedingly subtle, and one\\nsuspects some corruption of the text, but as\\nnear as I can get at it, the poet anticipated\\nwhat he afterwards said more clearly as to the\\ndouble function of the imagination. In A\\nMidsMmmer Night s Dream (n., i, 7-16), where\\nhe illustrates the differences between its regu-\\nlar and its irregular action, he says\\nThe lunatic, the lover, and the poet\\nAre of imagination all compact.\\nOne sees more devils than vast hell can hold,\\nThat is, the madman the lover, all as frantic,\\nSees Helen s beauty in a brow of Egypt\\nWhereas, he continues\\nThe poet s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,\\nDoth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to\\nheaven,\\nAnd as imagination bodies forth\\nThe forms of things unknown, the poet s pen\\nTurns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing\\nA local habitation and a name.\\nIt is needless to point out how clearly in these last lines the poet\\nrecognizes the distinction between the ideal and the practical, the\\nconception and the execution, the eye and the pen, or the Vision and\\nthe Faculty, on which we have already remarked.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0190.jp2"}, "191": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 177\\nIt is impossible, without falling into gravest\\nabsurdities, to construe the sonnet, as Dow-\\nden does, as an effort of the poet to tell his\\nfriend that his (the poet s) mind and sense\\nare alike filled with his perfections. In Son-\\nnet 112, says the critic, the poet tells how\\nhis ear is stopped to all other voices but one\\nbeloved voice (which decides for him even as\\nto what is right and wrong), but here the poet\\ntells how that his eyes see things only as related\\nto his friend. He, however, tells a great deal\\nmore than that, asserting that whatever he\\nsees, be it bird, or flower, or shape of any kind,\\nthe rudest or gentlest sight, a sweet look or a\\nhuge structure, a mountain or the sea, a crow\\nor a dove it is at once invested with your\\nfeatures. One can easily conceive how the\\nobjects of external nature can take on ideal\\nforms (as all poetry shows), but it is not easy\\nto conceive the process by which they take\\non the particular features of an individual.\\nThe poet is deeply perplexed by this won-\\ndrous power which changes things into\\nthoughts, and he inquires further\\nSon. ^3. What is your substance, or whereof are you\\nmade, that millions of strange shadows tend upon\\nyou, every one of which has its own peculiar nuance,\\nwhile you are one and individual. Describe Adonis", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0191.jp2"}, "192": {"fulltext": "178 A New Study of\\n(the classic model of masculine beauty), and the repre-\\nsentation will be but a poor counterfeit of You set upon\\nHelen s cheek all female perfections and it will only\\nbe You again arrayed in Grecian tires. Indeed, speak\\nof the spring and foison of the year [meaning the autumn\\nor harvest of the year], and what is the one but a sym-\\nbol of Your beauty, and the other of Your bounty We\\nrecognize You in every blessed shape we know in every\\nexternal grace as in every artistic creation You have\\nsome part but you are like none of them, and none of\\nthem is like you, in constancy of character.\\nHow absolutely absurd it is to suppose, as\\nthe critics do, that all this could be said of\\nand to an ordinary personal friend that he had\\na million shadows, unlike poor Peter Schlemihl,\\nwho had none that Adonis was a foil to\\nhim that Helen was himself, dressed off in\\nGrecian habiliments and, more still, that all\\nthe beautiful aspects of nature the bright\\ndawns, the solemn eves, the rippling streams,\\nthe far-off shimmer of the hills, and the grand\\nroll of the ocean were no more than efforts\\nof nature to embody his graces. Yet, in the\\naesthetic sense, is not the meaning here trans-\\nparent and exceedingly beautiful\\nI cannot but add of the thought of the\\nlast line that, in the endless variety and\\nThat face, as Marlowe wrote, which launched a thousand\\nships to burn the topless towers of Ilium imitated by Shakes-\\npeare in Troilus and Cressida (ii., 2, 82).", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0192.jp2"}, "193": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 179\\nchangeableness of external beauty, the ideal,\\nwhich has a part in all, is alone constant, seems\\nto be an anticipation of a passage in Ruskin,\\nwhere he says\\nThere is no bush on the face of the globe exactly\\nlike another bush there are no two trees in the forest\\nwhose boughs bend into the same network nor two\\nleaves on the same tree which could not be told from\\nanother nor two waves of the same sea exactly alike\\nyet out of this mass of various and agreeing beauty, the\\nconception of the constant character, the ideal form\\nhinted at by all, yet assured by none, is fixed upon by\\nthe imagination for its standard of truth.\\nThe poet becomes more definite still in his\\ndelineation of the Higher Muse, when he pro-\\nceeds to impute to it all possible human attri-\\nbutes, female as well as male. Our country-\\nman, Mr. E. C. Stedman, in his fine Essay on\\nthe Nattire and Elements of Poetry^ says that\\nthe artistic temperament is androgynous, or\\ndouble-sexed, feminine in its sensitiveness\\nand refinement, and masculine in its strength\\nand energy. He was, doubtless, not aware that\\nShakespeare had before him gone so far as to\\nrepresent the personified genius of all art itself\\nas both man and woman.\\nSon. 20. Thou master-mistress of my devotion [he\\nexclaims], thou hast a woman s face, formed by nature s\\nThe True and the Beautifiil, p. 59.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0193.jp2"}, "194": {"fulltext": "i8o A New Study of\\nown hand thou hast a woman s gentle disposition, but\\nnot liable to swift caprices, as some false women are.\\nThou hast an eye more bright and constant than any\\nwoman s and which lends a glory to every object on\\nwhich it falls. A man however in form, to whose power\\nall forms are subject that win the admiration of men, or\\nincite the wonder of women and, for a woman wert\\nthou first created (that is, conceived in the brains of\\nthe older poets, who made all their Muses and Graces\\nfemale), till Nature as she wrought Thee in that medium,\\nfell in love with the result, and added those universal\\nqualities which defeated me of all thought of appropriat-\\ning Thee to myself. But, because Thou art thus marked\\nout for the pleasure of all men,* still give me Thy love,\\nand I will make the use of it a treasure for the world.*\\nAs Viola puts it in Twelfth Night\\nT is beauty truly blent whose red and white\\nNature s own sweet and cunning hand laid on.\\nThe Quarto has not given to shifting change, as is false\\nwoman s fashion. And Dowden quotes Spenser (^Faerie Queene,\\niii., I, 41), which says Her wanton eyes, ill signs of womanhood,\\ndid roll too lightly.\\nThe Quarto says A man in hew, all Hews in his controlling,\\nwhere hew means form, as in Sonnets 82 and 104, and in other\\npassages cited by the commentators.\\nAll forms in his controlling, seems to me very significant.\\nDowden says it means a man in form and appearance having mas-\\ntery of all forms, in that of his, which shall, etc. and Irving s\\neditor puts it, a man in form, and all forms are subject to his\\npower (controlling) which are strange things to allege of any\\nhuman form, in fact unintelligible, but, said of an ideal genius\\nor spirit, quite pertinent and easily understood.\\nAll men, I think it should be, not all women, as printed\\nin the Quarto.\\nAs he did in his subsequent plays.\\nThe last four or five lines of this sonnet are hopelessly", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0194.jp2"}, "195": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare i8i\\nHaving referred to the Muses and Graces,\\nas the work of ancient poets and to the bril-\\nhant forms of beauty they had left behind\\nthem, not forgetting what he had said (Son-\\nnets 67, 68) as to the function of the true poet\\nin keeping up the standards of those antique\\ndays when the creation of beauty was as\\nspontaneous as the birth of flowers, our poet\\nstill asks if antiquity had exhausted the labor\\nof invention.\\nSoti. jp. If there be nothing new, but that which is has\\nbeen before, how we dekide our brains in laboring by\\ninvention to bring forth what must be only the second\\nburden of a former child Oh, that our records of\\npast achievements could by a backward look of only\\nfive centuries show me in some antique book, one writ-\\nten when the mind first began to express itself in wri-\\nting, what conception they had formed of the poetic\\nideal. What had the old world to say of that wonder-\\nful combination of qualities which we find in Your\\nframe In what respects was it better than ours, or in\\nwhat respects has it been improved upon? or whether\\nany change that has taken place has been a mere going\\nabout, or a revolution without progress. I am quite\\nmixed. To say nothing of such rhymes as created and de-\\nfeated, or a-doting and nothing, or the immediate repeti-\\ntion of by addition and by adding, there is no sense in them\\nas they stand. Twist the final couplet as you please, the outcome is\\nbathos, if not nonsense. It is impossible to reconstruct the passage,\\nand we can only guess at the probable meaning from the context,\\nand that guess must be one that shall, at least, be consistent with\\nthe fine thought of the outset, and not a vulgarism.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0195.jp2"}, "196": {"fulltext": "i82 A New Study of\\nsure myself that the wits of former ages gave their admi-\\nration to objects worse than those which occupy us in\\nthese days.*\\nHe pursues the same thought in reference\\nto a later time, the days of chivalry.\\nSoil. io6. When I see in the chronicles of time now\\ngone to waste e., in the old rhymed romances) descrip-\\ntions of the fairest wights, wherein the ideals of beauty\\nmake the old rhymes beautiful as they extol dear ladies\\nand lovely knights, then I recall in the very blazonry of\\nsweet beauty at its best whether of hand, or foot, or\\neye, or brow, that those antique writers endeavored to\\nexpress the beauty that You exhibit now. Their praises\\ntherefore are but prophecies of these our times, prefig-\\nuring You but inasmuch as they saw not with true\\ndiscerning eyes, they did not have skill enough to sing\\nyour true excellence. Even we of the present day, who\\nsee more clearly, have eyes to wonder,^ but lack the\\ntongue adequately to express what we behold.\\nSatisfied with the glimpses he had attained,\\nthe poet exclaims, in a moment of fluctuating\\nOf the question raised by Shakespeare in this sonnet, Mr. Lowell\\n(vol. iii., p. 32,) has since said that the true poetic imagination is of\\none quality, whether it be ancient or modern, and equally subject to\\nthe laws of grace, of proportion, of design, in whose free service and\\nin that alone it can become Art, but Shakespeare adds that while\\nthis quality is supreme and unchangeable our thought of it is ever on\\nthe advance, requiring new forms of words for its expression.\\nThe Quarto has ladies dead, which would read better as\\nladies dear, I think.\\n2 The Quarto has composite wonder, a phrase easily applied to\\nan ideal but hardly to an actual man.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0196.jp2"}, "197": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 183\\nSon. 75. You are, to my thought, like food to Hfe, or\\nlike timely showers to the earth, and to acquire the\\npeace which You can bring, I strive with myself, as a\\nmiser does with his gold now proud to possess it, and\\nanon doubting whether the filching age will not steal\\nhis treasure now counting it best to be alone with you\\ne., in silent communion), and then eager that the world\\nmay witness my delight. I am sometimes full with\\nfeasting on the sight of You, and at others pining for a\\nlook possessing or pursuing no pleasure but what is\\nhad, or must be had, from Your presence. Thus I sur-\\nfeit or starve from day to day like a glutton who has\\nall or nothing.\\nIn this fluctuation of feeling, the poet calls\\nupon the Muse to renew its force.\\nSon. ^6. Let it not be said that the edge of a fine\\naffection is blunter than that of a coarse appetite, which,\\nsatiated to-day, is to-morrow sharpened to its former\\nkeenness. So, love, although to-day Thou fillest Thy\\nhungry eyes until they close with fulness, to-morrow\\nlook again, and do not kill thy spirit with a perpetual\\ndulness. Let the sad interims between our commu-\\nnions seem like an ocean which parts the shores, where\\ntwo newly betrothed lovers daily come, and when they\\nsee their love returned, are made more blessed by the\\nsight or call that interim a winter, which, though full\\nof care and anxiety, renders summer more welcome\\nwhen it comes, and thrice more wished for because it\\nis rare.\\nBut this thought of the inconstancy of his\\nThe Quarto reads gluttoning on all, or all away.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0197.jp2"}, "198": {"fulltext": "1 84 A New Study of\\npleasure disturbs him with the fear that it\\nmight be taken away from him altogether\\nunder the influences of time. He writes\\nSon. 64. When I have seen the richest and proudest\\nmonuments of an outworn and buried age defaced by\\nthe fell hand of Time, when I have seen lofty towers\\nrazed to the ground and eternal brass a slave to its\\ndeadly rage when I have seen the hungry ocean eating\\nup the land, and the land invading the ocean, gain\\nfollowing loss and loss following gain, and this inter-\\nchange of condition, itself subject to overthrow, the\\ncontemplation of such ruin has made me think that Time\\nmay even come and take the object of my love away\\nthe thought of which is death to me, and I cannot\\nchoose but weep to possess that which I so much dread\\nto lose.\\nIn the same tone the poet continues\\nSon. 6j. If brass and atone, if earth and sea succumb\\nto time, how can beauty, whose action is no stronger\\nthan that of a flower, hold its place How can the\\nhoneyed breath of summer withstand the destructive siege\\nof battering days, when impregnable rocks and gates of\\nsteel are unable to resist their onslaughts? Oh, fear-\\nful meditation Where shall the best jewel that Time\\nproduces Beauty find an escape from its wallet of\\noblivion What mighty hand can hold his swift foot\\nback, or who can forbid his spoliations? Oh, none,\\nnone, the poet exclaims as if in despair, unless, the\\n1 As to the wallet of Time, see Troilus ajtd Cressida (iii., 3, 145)\\nalso Sonnet 63.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0198.jp2"}, "199": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 185\\nsaving thought comes to him, unless, this miracle may\\nbe achieved that in black ink Beauty may be enshrined\\nforever.\\nYes, there we have it Art, or the faculty\\ndivine, the writing of verse, may be the\\nlasting preservative of the vision divine.\\nArt embodies and perpetuates the airy noth-\\nings that would otherwise fly like down upon\\nthe winds Art is the miracle of creation re-\\nnewed and, touched by its magic wand, the\\nunsubstantial dreams of the night (of which we\\nonce heard become the glory of an everlast-\\ning day.\\nHow amazing it all is, the poet continues.\\nSo7i. do. The minutes of our lives are hastening to\\nthe end, like the waves of the sea, which rush to the\\nshore, each changing place with that which precedes it,\\nand yet ever toiling onward. Our very nature,* once\\nlaunched into the great ocean of light, wends its way to\\nits maturity, which having reached, it is pursued by\\nmalignant eclipses that fight against its glory. Time*\\nwhich gives all, destroys all it transfixes the bloom of\\nyouth, digs trenches in the brow of the fairest, and feeds\\non the rarest of Nature s truths and there is nothing\\nSee Sonnet 43.\\nThe Quarto has Nativity once in the main of light. Nativity\\nmeans birth, so that the line might read, launched by birth into\\nthe great main of light, we crawl to maturity.\\n*Lucrece says of Time,\\nThou nursest all, and murderest all that are.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0199.jp2"}, "200": {"fulltext": "i86 A New Study of\\nwhich its scythe does not seem to mow down. Yet,\\nmark it, despite of this cruel ravage, my little verse in\\npraise of thy excellency shall remain to all future ages.\\n2 The Faculty Divine.\\nBut how is the poet to seize the power\\ncapable of such an achievement How is he\\nto work this miracle How is he to acquire\\nthe art, which, as he expressed it at a later\\nday, bodies forth the form of things unseen,\\nturns them to shape, and gives to airy nothings\\na habitation and a name, or a home in\\nthe actual world At the very outset of his\\nefforts he encounters an almost insurmounta-\\nble obstacle in his self-love, by which he means\\nnot his selfishness in a moral sense, but his\\nstrong intellectual predisposition. He writes\\nSon. 62. The sin of self-love not only directs my\\neyes, but pervades my whole being. It is so rooted in\\nmy nature that it seems ineradicable, or beyond remedy.\\nMethinks no appearance so gracious as my own, no shape\\nso true, and no truth of such importance. My own\\nsuperiority, in my own estimation, surpasses all the\\nexcellences of all others. But when reflection shows me\\nmy real self, degraded and disfigured by the tan of\\nantiquity,^ I take a contrary view, and find a self-love so\\nThe Quarto has beated and chopt with tann d antiquity,\\nwhich may mean as I have given it above or it may mean, as some\\ncritics have suggested, steeped in and mixed up with the stains of\\nantiquity, drawing the figure from the process of tanning hides into", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0200.jp2"}, "201": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 187\\nintense, not love but iniquity. T is Thee, my better self,\\nthat I praise as myself and so substitute a devotion to old\\nfaults for the love of Thy beauty.\\nOne cannot fail to remark in this sonnet\\nShakespeare s anticipation of an essential\\nprinciple of all true art, disinterestedness,\\nor that exemption from prepossession, self-\\nadmiration, and prejudice, which enables the\\nartist to work in the full freedom of the ideal.\\nAs Mr. Hudson, has well said If a man goes\\nto admiring his own skill, or airing his own\\npowers, or heeding the breath of conventional\\napplause if he yields to any strain of self-\\ncomplacency, or turns to practising smiles, or\\nto taking pleasure in his self-begotten graces\\nand beauties, and fancies in this giddy and\\nfine leather. According to Webster s Dictionary, the liquor in which\\nhides are saturated is called the bate, and chopt may refer to the\\ncutting up of the raw material but that seems to me far-fetched. It\\nis generally allowed by the critics that beated in the first line is a\\nmisprint for bated (French abattre), lowered, cut down, reduced,\\ndegraded. Compare Merchant of Venice (iii., 3., 32): These\\ngriefs and losses have so bated me.\\nThe final couplet is very obscure\\nTis thee (myself) that for myself I praise,\\nPainting my age with beauty of thy days.\\nIrving s Edition (vol. viii., p. 442) reads it Tis thee myself i. e.,\\nwho art myself that for myself (i. e., as if myself) I praise, and\\nthe line Painting my age with beauty of thy days he compares\\nto Love s Labor s Lost, (iv., 3, 244): Beauty doth varnish age\\nas if new born all which furnishes very little help.\\n^Shakespeare His Life, Art, and Characters, vol. i., p. 147.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0201.jp2"}, "202": {"fulltext": "1 88 A New Study of\\nvestiginous state, he will be sure to fall into\\nintellectual and artistic sin.\\nAlas continues the poet\\nSon. 103. What poverty my Muse displays, when,\\nwith such a field for the exhibition of its powers, the\\nsubject in itself is more worthy of attention than after it\\nhas received my additional glosses. Oh, blame me not\\nif I shall write no more Look into your consciousness, as\\na mirror,* and you will see a form that so transcends my\\nclumsy inventions that my lines appear dull and dis-\\ngraceful to their author. Is it not sinful, then, that\\nin striving to mend, I only mar a subject that is already\\nwell Although my writing aims at no other end than\\nto set forth thy graces and endowments, yet consider\\nthyself and thou wilt see more, much more, than my\\nverses can contain.\\nIn other words, the poet avers that his ideal\\nof what he ought to write so far surpasses his\\npower of execution that he is almost forced to\\ndrop his pen forever.\\nSon. J/. Yet as a decrepit father takes delight in the\\nyouthful performances of a child, so I, as an author, dis-\\nabled by the keen enmities of fortune,^ find comfort in Thy\\nThe Quarto says, Your own glass shows you, using the phrase\\nas an equivalent of self- reflection, or your inward mirror.\\nLear (i., 4, 309) says, Striving to better, oft we mar what s\\nwell.\\n^The Quarto reads, So I, made lame by Fortune s dearest spite,\\nwhich that rare critic, Mr. S. Butler, accepts as proof that Shakespeare", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0202.jp2"}, "203": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 189\\nexcellence. Whether Beauty, Birth, Wealth, or Wit, or\\nany of these qualities, or all, or more, bear sway in the\\nworld, with a proper title to the parts they play, I sim-\\nply engraft my affection upon Thy store, and then I am no\\nlonger either lame, poor, or despised. Thy mere shadow\\nyields such an abundance that it suffices me, and I live\\neven on a mere reflection of Thy glory. What I wish\\nas the best, I find in Thee, and it makes me ten times\\nmore happy than I can utter.\\nOnce more the young poet is restrained and\\nconfused by his modesty\\nSon. jg. But Low can I sing Thy praises with any\\nmodesty, when Thou art all the better part of me (or a\\nsublimation of my own genius) As it is praising my-\\nself when I praise Thee, what can my own praise of\\nmyself avail me For which reason let us live as if\\napart, our dear love no longer appearing as one, in order\\nthat by the separation I may give to Thee the due which\\nthou deservest alone. Yet, Absence, what a torment\\nThou wouldst prove, were it not that sour leisure gives\\nsweet leave to entertain the time with loving thoughts\\nand so beguile both time and thoughts or, were it not\\nthat Thou teachest me how to make one of two, by\\ncommuning at once with what is both present and j^et\\nafar\\n(S Rivals in the Field.\\nThe young poet, after his meditations upon\\nhimself and his possible capacities, now turns\\nwas literally lame made lame by some accident, possibly\\nin a recent scuffle O, Lord sir.\\nThat is, the very highest ideal.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0203.jp2"}, "204": {"fulltext": "iQo A New Study of\\nto another subject, the obstacles he is likely to\\nencounter in his literary career.\\nSon. ^6. Why is my verse so destitute of modern\\nvivacity and free from a quick versatility of change\\nWhy do I not, in the fashion of the day, glance aside to\\nsome newfangled methods, or to some unusual combina-\\ntions of thought and expression Why do I always\\nwrite the same thing in the same style, dressing my con-\\nceptions in such a guise that every word betrays its\\norigin Oh, know, sweet Love, that I always write of\\nYou. You and your affections are my sole themes, so\\nthat the best that I can do is to clothe old words anew,\\nand to use over again an energy that has been already\\nused. Like the sun, which is daily new and old, my\\npassion can only extol that which has been extolled\\nbefore.\\nSon. yS. I have so often invoked Thy inspiration as my\\nMuse, and found such furtherance in its aid, that other\\nand alien pens have learned my trick and put forth their\\npoetry in Thy name. Thy favorable looks, which in my\\ncase have taught the dumb to sing, and heavy ignorance\\nto fly on high, have added feathers to the wings of those\\nwho are distinguished for their learning, and imparted\\nto the graces they already possessed a double attrac-\\ntion. No less. Thou shouldst be more proud of that\\nwhich I compose, because it is solely born of Thee, or\\ndue alone to Thy influence. In the works of others Thou\\ndost but improve the style, and grace their graces by an\\nadditional grace, but in my writings, as fidelity to Thee is\\nall the art I have, it lifts my rude ignorance to a level\\nwith their highest learning.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0204.jp2"}, "205": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 191\\nNone the less, the poet Is obhged to confess\\nto the Higher Muse that they must seemingly,\\nat least, separate or be twain. His profession,\\nthat of actor, brings him into such disrepute\\nwith the public that he does not wish to de-\\ngrade true poetry by connecting his name with\\nit, even by report.\\nSoti. 36. Still, let me confess, that although our lives\\nare in themselves one, we too must be divided, in order\\nthat the blots which are attached to me [because of his\\nprofession may be borne by me alone, and without call-\\ning upon Thy assistance. In our affections there is but\\none end, in spite of the cruel fate which separates us\\nfrom each other nor does that separation alter the\\nnature of our lives, though it steals away the sweetest\\nhours from our mutual delights, I may not, perhaps, be\\nable to acknowledge Thee for evermore, lest my guilt\\nwhich they bewail should bring Thee to shame, nor\\nThou henceforth do honor to me lest Thou shouldst\\ndishonor Thyself. Yet do not do so, I pray, for Thou\\nbeing mine, mine also is Thy good repute.^\\nThe sense of rivalry, awakened by con-\\ntact with others, contributed, as Brandes has\\nwell said, to the formation of Shakespeare s\\nearly manner, both in his narrative poems and\\nI have in this sonnet, and a few others, capitalized Thee and\\nThou, and You and Your, when applied to the Higher Muse, in order\\nto emphasize the distinction between the Higher and the Lower\\nMuse, and accustom the reader s mind to the new meaning of the\\nsonnets. But I have not thought it necessary to follow the practice\\nwhere this object is not important.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0205.jp2"}, "206": {"fulltext": "192 A New Study of\\nin his plays, and hence arose that straining\\nafter subtleties, that addiction to quibbles, that\\nwantonness of word-play, that bandying to-\\nand-fro of shuttlecocks of speech. Hence,\\ntoo, that state of overheated passion and over-\\nstimulated fancy, in which image begets image\\nwith a headlong fecundity, like that of the low\\norganisms which pullulate by mere scission.\\nThat is true, but Brandes adds, with no less\\ntruth, The man of all talents had the talent for\\nword-plays and thought-quibbles among the\\nrest he was too richly endowed to be behind-\\nhand even here. But there was in all this\\nsomething foreign to his true self. When he\\nreaches the point at which his inmost person-\\nality begins to reveal itself in his writings, we\\nare at once made conscious of a far deeper and\\nmore emotional nature than that which finds\\nexpression in the teeming conceits of the nar-\\nrative poems and the incessant scintillations\\nof the early comedies.\\nSon. yg. So long as I was alone in calling upon thy\\naid, my verse alone was distinguished by thy gentle pres-\\nence but now that other poets attempt the same thing,\\nmy numbers seem to have fallen off, and my discour-\\naged Muse is ready to yield place to that of another. I\\ngrant, my Love, that thy loveliness deserves the labor of\\na worthier pen than mine, and yet what thy poet invents\\nBrandes s Critical Study, (vol. i., p. 75).", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0206.jp2"}, "207": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 193\\nhe but robs from thee, and then gives back again. He\\nascribes qualities to thee which he had simply stolen\\nfrom thee he lends thee beauty, but that beauty he\\nfound already in thy cheek he can write no appreciation\\nof thee which is not already contained in thy life. Give\\nhim, then, no particular credit for what he says, as he\\ngets it all from the simple contemplation of thy nature.\\nNo, thank him not for what he utters, as all that he\\nowes thee thou thyself dost pay.\\nThe poet asks no especial favors from the\\nHigher Muse, but simply justice.\\nSon. 82. I grant Thou wert not married to my\\nMuse, or given to me as a sole and exclusive possession,\\nand mayst therefore lend thine ear to the appropriate\\nwords which other writers use in unfolding their several\\nthemes, blessing every book, for Thou art as just in\\nthy estimates as thou art fair in thy form. Conscious of\\nan excellence beyond my reach, Thou mayst be enforced\\nto seek anew some fresher exponents of it in this bet-\\ntered time. Well, do so, Love, but when they have de-\\nvised the finest touches of an overstrained rhetoric,\\nremember that what was really characteristic in Thee was\\ntruly discerned and verbally well expressed by Thy truth-\\ntelling friend, while the gross painting, the coarse dec-\\norations to which they resort, would have been better\\nused elsewhere, where cheeks want blood, and not\\napplied to Thee, where it is misplaced and superfluous.\\nHis excuse for his seeming delinquency is\\nstill a self-justification.\\nThe Quarto has Thou truly fair wert truly sympathized, i. e.,\\nmost feelingly appreciated.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0207.jp2"}, "208": {"fulltext": "194 A New Study of\\nSon. 83. I never saw that You needed painting or\\nthe artificial decorations of mere fancy, instead of the\\nmore truthful tribute of imagination, and I there-\\nfore never applied them in the setting forth Your\\nbeauty. I discovered, or thought I had discovered, that\\nYou surpassed any heights a poet might reach in the ac-\\nknowledgment of his debt to you. I have consequently\\nbeen silent in my report of what I felt in regard to your\\nqualities in order that You yourself, once made visible,\\nmight show how far an ordinary quill must fall short in\\nspeaking of your worth in its reality this self-restraint\\nyou have imputed to me as an offence, although it should\\nbe regarded as a virtue. By being mute I do not impair\\nthe beauty which others, in their endeavor to exhibit,\\nonly hide. There is more life in one of Your looks than\\nin all the praises that your poets can produce.\\nIt is better often to be silent than to say too\\nmuch not to the point.\\nSon. 84. Who of the poets say most, they that are\\nsilent and think, or they that speak, and yet speak\\nnothing to the purpose Who can say more than this,\\nthe richest praise, that You alone are You, that is, your-\\nself supreme Within whose limited brain is stored\\nthat wealth which is able to exemplify where Your equal\\ngrows That pen must be poverty-stricken, indeed,\\nwhich cannot lend some glory to its subjects but he\\nThe Quarto reads In whose confine immured is the store, Which\\nshould example where your equal grew, and critics generally give\\nthe lines the go-by. Irving s editor, however, finds in them some\\nalliance with the sonnets pertaining to marriage (vol. viii., p. 444),\\nwhich I do not see at all. Shakespeare several times uses exam-\\nple as a verb, as in Love s Labor j Lost (iii., i, 85), I will ex-", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0208.jp2"}, "209": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 195\\nthat writes of You, who truly shows You as you are, at-\\ntains the full dignity of verse. Let him but copy what\\nis writ in You, without confusing that which in its nature\\nis most clear, and the exact reproduction will give such\\nfame to his talent that his style will be universally ad-\\nmired. You would, however, add a curse to your beau-\\ntiful blessing if you were fond of a praise which is in\\nitself derogatory.\\nBecause he is disposed to be silent, the poem\\nclaims that he is none the less full of thought\\nSon. 8^. My speechless Muse maintains her modest\\nsilence, while the richest comments in your praise are\\ninscribed in letters framed by a golden quill, and in\\nprecious phrases which all the Muses have refined. I\\nmerely think good thoughts while others write good\\nwords, and, like an unlettered clerk, I cry amen to every\\nhymn accomplished talent may put forth in the finest\\nmanner of the adept. Hearing you praised at any time\\nI reply, That *s so, that s true, but to the best of en-\\ncomiums I add something more in my next My love\\nto you runs so far ahead of all expression that words\\nmust needs come hindmost. Respect others, therefore,\\nfor their utterances, but me for my dumb thoughts,\\nwhich are, after all, a mode of affectionate utterance.\\ni\\nYet while the poet asserts his claims against\\nthe generality of poets, he discovers one to\\nwhom he is disposed to bow.\\nample it, that is, I will give an example of it. See also Timon\\n(iv., 3, 440, I 11 example you with thievery. The lines are\\ninterrogative, I think, and simply ask what poet can fully express\\nthe ideal.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0209.jp2"}, "210": {"fulltext": "196 A New Study of\\nA Better Spirit Discerned.\\nSon. 80. In writing of you how discouraged I am to\\nfind a Better Spirit using your name, and spending all\\nhis force in your praise, so that I become tongue-tied\\nBut since your worth is as broad as the ocean, which\\nbears up the humblest as well as the proudest sail, my\\naudacious bark, though far inferior to his, dares to ap-\\npear upon the main your smallest aid will keep it\\nafloat, at least, while he goes sweeping over your sound-\\nless deeps. Or if the rack threatens us, I of worth-\\nless build, he a tall structure and of goodly port, and he\\nthrives while I go down, the worst that can be said of\\nthe catastrophe is that my fidelity to you was the cause\\nof my destruction.*\\nSon. 86. Was it the majestic movement of his great\\nverse, bound for the prize of all, your precious self,^\\nthat buried my best thoughts in my brain, making their\\nThe Quarto has here or, being wrack t, which most of the\\nmodern editors print or being wrecked, but the phrase refers to\\nthe ugly rack (Son. 33, 1. 6), or, the swift-moving clouds that\\nbring the storm. (See Antojiy and Cleopatra, iv., 14. 2. See also\\nHamlet, i., 2, 470, and Tempest, iv., i, 156,) Both barks could not\\nhave been spoken of as wrecked, when one of them is said to\\nthrive.\\n*One cannot but remark again in this sonnet the unpretending\\nmodesty of the young poet, to which I have before referred, mingled\\nwith a deep consciousness of real power.\\nThe Quarto has in line 2 Bound for the prize of (all to\\nprecious you), where the modern critics have dropped the paren-\\ntheses, and changed to into too. But may the line not have read\\noriginally, Bound to the prize of all, that is, to the common\\nprize of all writers, or to the highest prize of all, to precious\\nyou, or to your precious favor", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0210.jp2"}, "211": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 197\\nwomb their tomb was it his peculiar spirit, stimulated\\nto write by other spirits on a more than mortal theme, that\\nparalyzed my powers No, neither he nor the nightly\\ncoadjutors, who lend him aid, astonished me nor can\\nthat affable and familiar ghost, who gulls him with\\nspurious intelligence, boast of victory over me. I was\\nnot intimidated by any fear of them but when I saw\\nyour countenance shining in every line, my subjects\\ndwindled and my lines grew weak.\\nOf course we do not know who this Better\\nSpirit was many conjectures have been\\nmade in regard to him, but none of them are\\nentirely satisfactory. Daniel has been sug-\\ngested, but Daniel is more likely to have suc-\\nceeded than to have preceded Shakespeare.\\nOthers, again, have mentioned Greene, though\\nGreene was an enemy of our bard, and pre-\\nsumably detested by him, even if we should\\nsuppose him capable of writing anything of\\nany sort to excite Shakespeare s despair.\\nThen Lilly, the Euphuist, has been lugged in\\nRomeo and Juliet (ii., 3, 9), The earth that s Nature s mother\\nis her tomb.\\nIt has not before been noted, I think, that Thorpe, the first\\npublisher of Shakespeare s Sonnets, in his introduction to Marlowe s\\ntranslation of the first book of Lucan, speaks of Marlowe both as\\na ghost and a familiar. It is possible that he got the words\\nfrom this sonnet, and if he did, it sets at rest the question as to who\\nthis better spirit was. See Bullen s Marlowe (vol. iii., p. 253).\\nThe Quarto has sick of fear, meaning, as in Troilus and\\nCresdda, envious.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0211.jp2"}, "212": {"fulltext": "198 A New Study of\\nto fill the gap, whose eccentricities the younger\\npoet ridiculed. The most fantastic of all con-\\njectures was one by G. A. Leigh, which con-\\ncludes that Tasso, an Italian, writing in a\\nforeign tongue to a foreign public, was the\\nculprit.^ It was said that Tasso put forth a\\nfulsome and hypocritical laudation of Queen\\nElizabeth, which roused the jealousy of the\\nyoung Englishman, though he cared about as\\nmuch for that lady as he cared for the Puritan\\npreachers. Does he not say in Sonnet 85,\\nargues Mr. Leigh, Hearing your praise I say\\nV is so, t is true, meaning Tasso by Tisso, and\\nQ. E. D.\\nOne of the most plausible of these con-\\njectures was by Professor Minto,^ who brings\\nGeorge Chapman forward as the probable\\nrival. Chapman was learned, polished, and\\nsevere in his taste, and in his dramas, as in\\nhis translations of Homer, a master of the\\ngrand style, or, as Keats says, both loud\\nand deep. Besides, in his Tears of Peace\\n(Induction, p. 21), he claims to have been\\ninspired by the old Greek, while In his dedi-\\ncation to his Shadow of Night, he talks of a\\nWestminster Review^ i8g7.\\nCharacteristics of English Poets, p. 222.\\nSee Keats s sonnet on Chapman s Homer.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0212.jp2"}, "213": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 199\\nheavenly familiar, apparently recognized\\nin Shakespeare s Sonnet, No. 86. But chron-\\nology, I think, knocks this supposition on the\\nhead. The Shadow of Night was not pub-\\nlished till 1594 the first specimen of the Iliad\\nnot till 1596, and the Tears of Peace even as\\nlate as 1609, all of them, as I make out the\\ndates, considerable after the Sonnets were\\nwritten. Or, ascribing the Sonnets to a later\\ndate, it would bring them, as I have already\\nshown, to a time when the poet had reached\\na point beyond all rivalry.\\nIf we must have a name for this unknown, I\\nam decidedly of the opinion that it should be\\nspelled Kit Marlowe. Marlowe was at the\\nheight of his popularity just about the time\\nthe Stratford poet was well settled in London.\\nHis Tamburlaine (1589),^ and his Faus-\\ntus (1589), by their abandonment of the\\nold-fashioned jigging vein of rhyming mother-\\nwits, by their more audacious aims, their\\nsonorousness and stately diction, and by their\\nvigorous projections of character, to say noth-\\ning of an evident yearning for Ideal Beauty,\\nhad thoroughly changed the aspects of the\\ndrama. Shakespeare knew Marlowe, had co-\\noperated with him in Henry VI., and perhaps\\nSee Bullen s Marloiue, vol. i., p. 70.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0213.jp2"}, "214": {"fulltext": "200 A New Study of\\nin Edward II. and other pieces, and must have\\ndiscerned in him at once those quaHties which\\nled his friends at the time or in after years to\\nspeak of him as the Muses darHng. His\\nsilver tongue, his golden lines, his rare\\nart and wit, and his possession of those\\nbrave, translunary things that the first poets\\nhad, had caused some of his couplets to be\\nsung by the boatmen of the Thames as they\\nrowed along the wharves. One writer says\\nMen would shun their sleep in still dark nights,\\nto meditate upon his golden lines. Besides^\\nShakespeare did for him what he has not done\\nfor any other contemporary, that is, directed\\nattention to his productions. Twice he quotes\\nfrom him entire lines,^ once a whole stanza,^\\nand it is thought to be proved that he paro-\\ndied a long passage from Marlowe s Dido^ in\\nHamlet.\\nWhat Shakespeare says in these sonnets of\\nhis occasional silences would seem to confirm\\nthe opinion of some critics, that Spenser, in his\\nTeares of the Muses, wherein Thalia complains\\nof the barbarism and ignorance that had in-\\nvaded the stage and driven off the harmless\\nSonnet 54, and As You Like It (iii., 5, 82.)\\nMerry Wives (iii., i, 14.)\\nSee Hamlet (ii., 2, 430-475,) with the discussion in Furness s\\nVariorum, vol. i., p. 184.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0214.jp2"}, "215": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 201\\nsport which had formerly given dehght and\\nlaughter, referred to our rising young poet,\\nHe, the man whom Nature s self had made\\nTo mock herself and truth to imitate.\\nWith kindly counter, under mimic shade,\\nOur pleasant Willie, ah, is dead of late.*\\nBut that same gentle spirit from whose pen\\nLarge streams of honie and sweet necktar flow\\nScorning the boldness of such base-born men.\\nWhich dare their follies forth so rashly throw,\\nDoth rather choose to sit in idle Cell\\nThan so himself to mockery to sell.\\nThis was published in 1591, and probably\\nhad been read in manuscript much before.\\nShakespeare was then already known as the\\nauthor of Loves Labor s Lost and Loves Labor\\nWon, The Comedy of Errors, the Two Gentle-\\nmen of Verona, A Midstimmer Night s Dream,\\nand as a co-laborer in the several parts of\\nHenry VI., in all of which are touches of ten-\\nderness and mirth that might easily have\\nattracted the congenial admiration of the elder\\nand more prominent poet.\\n(4) The Estrangement of the Higher Mtise.\\nOur young poet in his first encounter with\\nrivals was more deeply impressed by their\\nability than there was really any occasion for\\nDead meaning inactive, as the next paragraph shows.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0215.jp2"}, "216": {"fulltext": "202 A New Study of\\nand he not only lost confidence In himself,\\nbut began to feel as if the genius which had\\ngiven him so much hope in the beginning, was\\nabout to leave him altogether. In this de-\\nspondency he wrote a number of remonstrances\\nwhich expressed with only too much modesty\\nhis fears of a final estrangement, or of the\\nwithdrawal of those higher inspirations which\\nhad ever been his chief delight. He wrote\\nSo7i. 88. If Thou shalt be disposed to hold me in\\nlight esteem, and ever look upon such merit as I have\\nwith scorn, I shall not demur, but taking sides with\\nThee fight against myself, to prove that Thou art right\\nalthough Thou hast not kept Thy early promises to me.\\nI know my own weaknesses better than anyone else, and\\nI could tell such a story of the hidden faults that taint\\nmy nature that Thou wouldst gain immensely by cutting\\nloose from me, or escaping all responsibility for what I\\nwrite. But then I should be a gainer too, because, bend-\\ning my intensest thoughts on Thee, the imperfections I\\nfind in myself advantage Thee in lifting Thee so much\\nthe higher by the comparison, and at the same time they\\ndoubly vantage me, by revealing my defects more clearly,\\nwhile elevating Thee as an ideal.\\nSupposing this sonnet to be addressed to\\nan actual person, as the critics commonly do,\\nthe later lines of it become to me wholly\\nSets it light See Richard II. (i., 3, 293)\\n2 Quarto says, Thou art forsworn, which means, I think, that the\\nHigher Muse appears to the poet as not having kept its promises.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0216.jp2"}, "217": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 203\\nunintelligible. The poet is made to say to his\\nfriend that in losing him (the poet), the friend\\nwould gain much glory, i. e., reputation, as if\\nthe association were a decidedly disgraceful\\none but then it is immediately added that the\\npoet himself would gain a double vantage\\nby the separation, because, bending all his\\nloving thoughts on the friend, the injuries\\nhe does to himself are in some way an im-\\nmense acquisition to both of them he does\\nnot say in what way, and the reader is left\\nin the vague. In my version the meaning of\\nthe lines, though not obvious, is yet clear\\nthe poet s love for the Ideal Muse is so strong\\nthat he is willing to take all faults found in\\nhim upon himself in order to show that the\\nideal is pure and right. He is the guilty one,\\nnot in the imaginative, but the executive\\nsphere. His performances fall short of his\\nconceptions, and in releasing the Higher Muse\\nfrom all responsibility for them he acquits\\nthat Muse, preserves it in its exaltation, and\\nyet benefits himself by getting nearer to a\\ntrue conception of their relative positions.\\nSon. 8g. Say that Thou dost desert me, not as a\\nmere caprice, but for some fault, and I will be prompt\\nin the admission of it Speak of my general disability,\\nand I will at once limp to show it, making no defence", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0217.jp2"}, "218": {"fulltext": "204 A New Study of\\nagainst any reasonable accusations. Nor canst Thou\\nbring me into greater disfavor, by holding up a model\\nof the changes desirable in me, than my own perform-\\nances will. Therefore, knowing what Thou desirest of\\nme, I will dissemble our acquaintance, look strange,\\npretend to no intercourse, and never take Thy name\\nupon my tongue lest I should profane it and perchance\\nbetray our former intimacy. For Thy sake I will under-\\ntake to denounce myself,* as I must never even seem to\\nlove him whom Thou dost hate.\\nIn Other words, he must take his faults upon\\nhis own shoulders, and not allow them to be\\nimputed to the influence of the Muse he\\nworships.\\nBut if I am to be deserted by Thee, the poet\\nproceeds, let it be at once that I may know the\\noutcome of what is to befall me. He writes\\nSon. go. Hate me if Thou wilt, but now, when the\\nworld is bent on crossing my desires, join in with the\\nspite of fortune, and bow me to the ground, but do not\\ndrop down like an afterstroke Ah, when my heart\\nhath just escaped one sorrow (this outward affliction of\\nfailure), do not follow in the rear of a woe just over-\\ncome like a rainy morning after a windy night, and pro-\\nlong my overthrow. If Thou must leave me, do not\\nleave me last of all, when other smaller griefs have\\nThe Quarto has, I will acquaintance strangle, meaning disavow.\\nSee Twelfth Night (v., i. 150), and A7tt. and Cleo. (ii., 6, 130).\\nThe Quarto has Against myself I 11 vow debate debate al-\\nways meaning, in Shakespeare quarrel or contest. See Alidsutnmer\\nNighfs Dream (ii., i, 116). From our debate, from our dissen-\\nsion.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0218.jp2"}, "219": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 205\\nshown their spite, but come at the outset that I may\\ntaste the extreme of fortune s enmity and all other afflic-\\ntions appear but as nothing in the comparison.\\nHow tremendous that loss would be the\\npoet goes on to disclose by a series of striking\\ncontrasts.\\nSon. 61. Some men glory in their birth, some in their\\nskill, some in their wealth, some in their athletic force, and\\nsome in their newfangled gowns, or in their hawks, and\\nhounds, and horses. Every such humor, too, has a distinct\\ndelight, in which each one finds a joy above all others.\\nYet none of their particular enjoyments fill my measure,\\nfor I transcend them all in one general best. Thy love,\\nThy favor, Thy inspiration is to me more than high birth,\\nricher than wealth, and more agreeable than equipage\\nand estate and, having Thee, I may indulge in a pride\\nwhich excels the pride of all other men. I am worried\\nalone by one possibility, that Thou mayst take thyself\\naway and leave me utterly wretched.\\nExtremely exaggerated as all this would\\nseem, if taken as addressed to an actual person,\\nyet in a poetic sense it is natural and impres-\\nsive and imparts great dignity to the whole\\nsubject.\\nSon. Q2. But doing Thy worst to withdraw from me,\\nthere is one thing sure As my life depends upon Thy\\nlove, it will continue only as long as that love continues.\\nI have no need, therefore, to fear the worst of wrongs,\\nThe Quarto reads, The least of wrongs, which is an obvious\\nmisprint, for the poet is dealing with what he considers the greatest\\nevil that can befall him the last to which he has just referred.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0219.jp2"}, "220": {"fulltext": "2o6 A New Study of\\nwhen this last affliction would bring my life to an end.\\nI see that my state is better than if it depended upon\\nThy caprices. No mere inconstancy of Thine can vex\\nme, when my life would yield to the first evidence of Thy\\nserious revolt. Oh, what a happy condition is mine,\\nhappy in the possession of Thy love, and happy to die if\\nI have it not But what appearance is so blessedly fair\\nthat a blot on it is not to be feared Thou mayst be\\nfalse, that is, my ideal may be wrong, and I the while\\nbe wholly unconscious of the error.\\nLet me illustrate the distinction here, simple\\nas it is, by an example. When Shakespeare\\nwrote the Two Gentlemen of Verona, a subject\\nwhich was new and untouched as yet, he must\\nhave had a conception of it in his mind which\\nwas exceedingly pleasant to him. It gave him\\nan opportunity to tell a deeply interesting\\nstory, to portray contrasts and originalities of\\ncharacter, to indulge in descriptions of man-\\nners and to introduce touches of pathos or\\nhumor which were a vast improvement upon\\neverything that had been done before, and\\nhe wrote according to his highest conception\\nof what was necessary in a domestic and\\nHere again the thought is very subtle, and I am not positive that\\nI have rendered the explanation of it clear. The poet is medita-\\nting upon the ideal, which he says in itself or in the abstract seems\\nperfect but which may be in each particular mind imperfect or false.\\nIt is like light, which is in itself pure, but may be deflected by the\\nobjects on which it falls, or take a color from the medium through\\nwhich it passes.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0220.jp2"}, "221": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 207\\nsocial drama. In a word, he was deHghted\\nwith his ideal the occasional outbursts of\\nlyrical passion or gayety, and the many lines\\nof a sweet musical cadence show him full of\\ninterest in his work but it is clear that before\\nhe had got to the end, when he began to see\\nsome of its incongruities, how utterly improb-\\nable much of it was, how far it fell short of\\nwhat might have been, he felt the need, if he\\nshould ever go to work again, of a much higher\\naim and elaboration. The ideal which had\\nsmiled upon him at the outset was now turn-\\ning its back upon him with a frown.\\nMr. Ruskin remarks upon a similar change\\nin a kindred art when he says that Raphael, in\\npainting his earliest cartoons, painted them ac-\\ncording to his ideals of the subjects if they\\nwere, in many respects, high ideals, it yielded\\nhim great pleasure to contemplate and to em-\\nbody them, as they have since given thousands\\nof others great pleasure to see them but when\\nwe study them closely now and discover that\\nthey are not according to the highest ideals,\\nwe begin to suspect a general want of truth\\nin their representations. We find many falla-\\ncies of detail, and, in the end, though there\\nmay be grace of line, charm of color, rounded\\nharmony, we carry away a strange feeling", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0221.jp2"}, "222": {"fulltext": "2o8 A New Study of\\nthat, after all, there is in them all a strong\\ndash of the spurious. The ideal, though it\\nlifted the artist, as it still lifts spectators,\\ninto a higher realm of thought and feeling,\\nwas none the less false. Now it was the dif-\\nference here indicated that Shakespeare dis-\\ncerned and, in his youthful manner, tried to\\nimpress upon himself and his readers among\\nhis private friends.\\nOur poet next dwells upon the consequences\\nof this error.\\nSon. gj. Supposing my ideal to be true, while it\\nis in reality inadequate and so false, I shall be like a de-\\nceived husband, having Thy looks with me, though Thy\\nheart is in another place. Yet there can be no expres-\\nsion of hatred in Thine eye, and I could not by that\\nmeans learn of any estrangement.* In the looks of\\nmany the history of the false heart is written in strange\\nmoods, frowns, and wrinkles, but heaven, by the man-\\nner of Thy creation, which is imaginative, has ordained\\nthat in Thy face love must ever be expressed. What-\\never Thy thoughts and emotions may be. Thy looks\\nmust be genial and inviting, and wear a smile of sweet-\\nness. How like the apple of Eve Thy beauty would be-\\ncome if its real nature did not in the end conform to its\\nappearance, a source of widespread and unending\\nevil.\\nIn view of his disappointments, the poet ex-\\nclaims, almost in the depths of despair\\n1 That is, an ideal always seems to be encouraging and genial.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0222.jp2"}, "223": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 209\\nSon. 33. Full many a glorious morning have I seen,\\nflattering the mountain tops with sovereign eye, kissing\\nthe green meadows with its golden lips and gilding the\\npale streams with its heavenly alchemy anon, it permits\\nthe basest clouds to ride with ugly rack on its celestial\\nface, and hide its visage from the forlorn world, as it steals\\nignobly to the west. Even so my sun one early morning\\nshone, with all triumphant splendor but, O, alack it\\nwas but one hour mine, and now the region cloud has\\nmasked it from my view. Yet it is not to be disdained\\nfor this, because if the great sun of the heavens may be\\nobscured, the suns of the lesser world may also grow\\ndim.\\nThe poet adds, a little petulantly, perhaps\\nSon. J4. But why didst Thou promise such a glorious\\nday, luring me forth without a shelter, and then let the base\\nclouds overtake me, while they hide Thy beauty in their\\nrotten smoke T is not enough that through those\\nclouds Thou breakest (giving me a brighter glimpse now\\nand then) to dry the rain on my storm-beaten brow.\\nNo man will care for a salve which heals the wound but\\nleaves its mark behind, nor can a change of aspect be a\\nphysic to my grief, and even if thou shouldst repent (or\\nbecome favorable), I still bear the loss. An offender s\\nsorrow lends but slight relief to one who bears the cross\\nof dishonor. Ah no less Thy tears of repentence would\\nbe pearls rich enough to ransom all misdeeds.\\nIn King yohn (iii., i, 77) it is said,\\nThe glorious sun\\nStays in his course and plays the alchemist.\\n(See also Sonnet 114.)\\n^The region cloud, i, e., the cloud in the air. Hamlet (ii., 2,\\n509).", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0223.jp2"}, "224": {"fulltext": "2IO The Sonnets of Shakespeare\\nIs it pressing a point too far to suppose here\\nthat in the foregoing sonnets, which begin with\\nsuch high aspirations, coupled to a conscious-\\nness of secret power, and end in deep discour-\\nagement, we have a record of the poet s actual\\nexperiences We have seen before how, in\\nhis first effort, Titus A^romcus, he threw him-\\nself completely into the violent manner of the\\ntimes, and by mere imitation of what had\\ngone before him, out-heroded Herod. In the\\npieces that immediately followed. Loves La-\\nbor s Lost, the Two Gentlemen of Verona, the\\nComedy of Errors, and, perhaps, the first\\nsketch of The Taming of A Shrew, he discarded\\nhis notable faults, and introduced a more gentle\\nand delicate management of both characters\\nand style; yet he could not wholly break\\naway from his fondness for queer puns and\\nconceits, frequent rhymes, doggerel verse,\\neven sonnets in dialogue, pedantic classical\\nallusions, and clowns, who spoke for the di-\\nversion of the groundlings and not for the\\nfurtherance of the play, it was the fashion\\nof the age.\\nBut may we not suppose, too, as he so\\noften excuses himself on the ground of his\\nlow fortunes, that he was compelled to do\\nSee ante, Group 3, p. 114.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0224.jp2"}, "225": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 2 1 1\\nwork, merely to live, which did not carry with\\nit his real approval. Painters at this day are\\nsometimes required to put forth pictures which\\nthey call pot-boilers, and which are anything\\nbut flattering representations of their powers.\\nWe know of Shakespeare that, before and after\\nhe was dead, plays were ascribed to him that\\nwere not at all worthy of his genius, and yet\\nthey may have been his.^ None of them can\\nbe regarded as the work of the author of Ham-\\nlet, Othello, and Lear, and yet some of them\\nmay have been the work of that author in his\\nadolescence, and especially when he was in the\\nhard grip of poverty. Acute modern critics\\ndo not scruple to point out passages in these,\\nwhich, however tawdry the- setting, show the\\ntouches of a master, but of a master in his\\nsalad days. Of his participation in the Two\\nNoble Kinsmen there is no longer a doubt a\\nphrase or a cadence here and there in Edward\\nIII. makes us think that he helped the author,\\nwhoever he was and an ink-blot, if no more,\\nof him who complained that he had gone\\nhere and there in familiar intercourse with\\nunknown minds, and trimmed his sails to ev-\\nery wind, is more than discernible in Arden\\nThe names of these doubtful or suspicious plays are given in\\nnearly all lives of the poet.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0225.jp2"}, "226": {"fulltext": "212 A New Study of\\nof Feversham and The Yorkshire Tragedy}\\nBut his fine poetic instincts turned him away\\ngradually from these Stygian pools to heavenly\\nair, where no foulness lived, and death itself\\nwas dead.\\nA Resolve to A-mend.\\nIt was only natural for the young poet,\\nseeing how he had wandered from what his\\ngenuine poetic instincts informed him was the\\nright path, to endeavor to get back and he\\nappealed to his Muse, his ordinary, every-day\\nMuse we may say, to resume allegiance to the\\nHigher Muse, which had been estranged. He\\ncalls\\nSon. ICO. Where art thou, Muse, that thou hast for-\\ngotten to call upon that Higher Muse, who gives thee all\\nthy force Dost thou waste thy enthusiasm on some\\nworthless song, darkening thy pov/er in order to lend a\\npaltry subject light Return, forgetful Muse, and re-\\ndeem the time so idly spent, by gentle numbers Sing\\nagain to the ear that will thy lays esteem, and lend thy pen\\nboth subject and style. Awake, torpid Muse,^ and look\\nonce more into the face of the true ideal and if thou\\nSee Swinburne s remarks in A Study of Shakespeare, chap, iii.,\\npassim.\\nThy fury, poetic enthusiasm, as in Lovers Labor s Lost {i\\\\.,\\n3, 229): What fury hath inspired thee now Othello also\\nspeaks of a prophetic fury (iii., 4, 72).\\nResty Muse, or, Muse too fond of rest. Dowden says, torpid.\\nIn LaXin, piger ientus.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0226.jp2"}, "227": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 213\\nfindest that, in the lapse of time, wrinkles have been en-\\ngraven there (or that it has suffered degradation), be a\\nsatirist to that decay, and cause its spoils to be de-\\nspised. Give the object of my love a fame that shall\\ngrow faster than Time s waste, and hinder the ravages of\\nhis malignant weapon.\\nThe distinction between the ordinary Muse\\nand the Higher Muse, is made very prominent\\nin the next sonnet.\\nSon. loi. Oh, truant Muse, what amend canst thou\\nmake for thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed Both\\nTruth and Beauty depend upon the favors of the Higher\\nMuse, as thou thyself dost in order to obtain true dig-\\nnity.\u00c2\u00b0 Wilt thou answer, perchance, O Muse, that\\nTruth needs no color but its own, and Beauty no decora-\\ntion to show its harmony with Truth and that the best\\nis the best when unadulterated But because it e.,\\nTruth in Beauty dyed needs no praise, wilt thou be\\nsilent Offer no such excuse, as it is within thy power\\nto render the Higher Muse immortal and win the applause\\nof ages yet to be. Then do thy office. Muse, aye, teach\\nme how to present him, in ages far hence, as he appears\\nto me now.^\\nThe poet s passion has revived but his\\npower of execution still lags.\\nQuarto has, be a satire, meaning satirist, as in Jonson s\\nPoetaster (v. i.).\\n2 In the Quarto the masculine term him is used of the Higher\\nMuse, while in the edition of 1640 the term is feminine, her but as\\nthe poet, in Sonnet 20, speaks of the Higher Muse as the master-\\nmistress of his devotion, either term may be proper.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0227.jp2"}, "228": {"fulltext": "2 14 A New Study of\\nSon. 102. My devotion is stronger than it was, al-\\nthough the outward expressions of it are still weak. The\\nfeeling is not less because it makes less show. That love\\nis merchandized or cheapened whose richness the owner\\nparades before the public. When our love was in its\\nfreshness I celebrated it in my verse, as the nightingale\\nsings her song in the front of summer,^ but stops as the\\nseason advances not that summer is any the less pleas-\\nant than it used to be when her mournful hymns hushed\\nthe night, but because every bough is now burdened\\nwith wild music and pleasant things cease to be pleas-\\nant when they become common. Like the sweet bird,\\nthen, I sometimes hold my tongue that I may not weary\\nYou by its monotony.\\nConfessions of faults, as confession is said\\nto be good for the soul, our poet gives us in\\nplenty he writes\\nSo7i. no. Alas, t is only too true I have wandered\\naway from the right path and made myself a spectacle\\nto the mob, mutilated my best thoughts and turned my\\nnew tastes into old offences (by degrading them to the\\nhackneyed commonplaces of the boards) I have looked\\naskance and disdainfully at truth itself, as if it were\\nsomething to be avoided, and yet, by all above, these\\nblemishes have been of some profit, for even the worst\\nof my essays have proved the best of friends to me.\\nNow, all is over, save that which shall never end my\\ndevotion to Thee I shall never more attempt to sharpen\\nSee Sonnets 24, 14 and also Love s Labor V Lost\\nThe Quarto has in Summer s front See Winter s Tale\\n(iv. 3, 3), peering in April s front.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0228.jp2"}, "229": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 215\\nmy appetite by new trials, which only serve to alienate\\nan older companion. An exclusive god of my affection,\\nhenceforth give me welcome to Thy pure heart, as, next\\nto Heaven itself, my best of homes.\\nHis faults, however, he repeats, are not en-\\ntirely his own.\\nSon. III. Still, if I have gone astray, it was not en-\\ntirely my own fault, but chide an adverse fortune for the\\nresult, which did not provide for me a happier life than\\nthis dependence on public support, which generates\\npublic manners. Ascribe it to that guilty goddess, if\\nmy name has received a brand, and my very nature been\\nsubdued to what it works in, like the dyer s hand. Pity\\nme, then, rather than upbraid me, and help me to a re-\\nform. A willing patient, I will drink potions of vinegar\\nto cure my strong infection I will think no bitterness\\nbitter, no double penalties imposed upon me too severe,\\nif they will only correct what I already deem correction.\\nPity me, dear friend, and I assure You Your pity alone\\nwill work out my reformation.\\nSon. 112. Yes, indeed, Your sympathy and commis-\\neration will fill up the gaps that vulgar scandal has en-\\ngraved upon my brow. If You will hide my bad and\\naccept my good, what shall I care for the judgments of\\nothers, whether favorable or not You are my all-the-\\nworld now and my merits and demerits shall only be\\ndetermined by Your decision. No one else for me, nor\\nI for any one else, shall change my fixed sense of what\\nis right or wrong (that is, poetically, not morally). I\\nshall cast all care for the voices of others into so deep\\nan abyss, that my ear, like that of an adder, shall be", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0229.jp2"}, "230": {"fulltext": "2i6 A New Study of\\nstopped to all sounds alike, come they from carper or\\nflatterer. Mark, too, how I dispense with their opinions.^\\nYou are so firmly knit into my purposes, that everything\\nelse in the world seems dead.\\nSon. io8. There is nothing in the brain no conceit\\nor aspiration, which it is possible to put down in writ-\\ning in which I have not endeavored to figure some-\\nthing of my true inward feeling toward Thee. What is\\nthere new to speak or to write which can be an adequate\\nexpression of my love or of Thy excellence Nothing,\\ndear one, and therefore every day I say over again the\\nsame thing, as one repeats his prayers, counting nothing\\nold as long as Thou art mine, and I am Thine. It is an in-\\nspiration ever fresh, as fresh as it was in those early days\\nwhen I first hallowed Thy love in my song. Love is eter-\\nnal in its essence, and does not feel the injurious weight\\nor dust of age, or acquire any wrinkles from the passage\\nof Time. Antiquity, where the first conceit of it was\\nborn, will still prove to be its home, though all the\\noutward forms of it might seem to show that it was long\\nsince dead.\\nSon. iij. You have a right to complain of my scant-\\ning my services to You, to whom I am dearly bound by\\nevery tie of duty of my intimacy with strange minds,\\nto which I have surrendered what belonged of right to\\nYou of my having hoisted sail to every wind that\\ncarried me farther from Your sight book all my wilful-\\nness and error down accumulate surmises that have any\\nreal ground, and then visit me with Your frowns but\\nThe Quarto says, Mark how with my neglect I do dispense,\\nwhich means, Mark how I can excuse this neglect of others and\\nreference may be made to Lucrece, 1. 1070, or 1. 1279, ^^so to Com-\\nedy of Errors (ii., I, 123) and Measure for Measure {lii., l, I35).", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0230.jp2"}, "231": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 217\\nwithhold Your settled hate, because I may make this\\nappeal, that I served to bring out the constancy and\\nforce of Your love.\\nIt is worthy of remark that In the sonnets\\n(before given) in which Shakespeare deplores\\nthe lapses of the Episode, he speaks of them\\nas moral offences or offences of the heart,\\nWhat wretched errors hath my heart com-\\nmitted he has wandered from his home of\\nlove, quit the source of all good, and fallen\\ninto a degradation which can only be cured by\\ncopious tears of repentance. But he laments\\nhis later faults as of an intellectual kind, or as\\nerrors of the head he has looked on truth\\naskance, he has associated with alien minds,\\ntrimmed his sail to every wind, resorted to ex-\\npedients that have branded his name, the re-\\nsult often of his poverty and they deserve\\npity rather than blame. But he will submit to\\nany discipline, whereby he may be corrected\\nand restored.\\nHis lapses, the poet continues, were accom-\\nplished in this way\\nSon. 118. As, in order to render our appetites more\\nkeen, we sting the palate with sharp compounds: or, as in\\npurging, make ourselves sick to avoid sickness, even so,\\nwhile I was full of your never-cloying sweetness, I\\nadapted my taste to unusual sauces, and, weary of being\\nwell, found a sort of fitness in getting ill. This policy of", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0231.jp2"}, "232": {"fulltext": "2i8 A New Study of\\nanticipation in art, or of exposing a healthful condition\\nto medicinal treatment, turned the ills that might be into\\ncertain faults, but it has also taught me that drugs are a\\nveritable poison to him who rejects your goodness.*\\nThe poet s resolution is now fixed against all\\nchanges.\\nSon. loy. Neither my own fears, as to my powers or\\nmy fidelity, nor the prophetic soul of the wide world,\\nbrooding over possibilities to come, shall control the\\nlease of my true love, or my hold of the Higher Muse,\\nas if it had been foredoomed to a merely limited term.\\nThe mortal moon or the deadly half-light or\\nreflected light in which I have been groping, has\\ngone into eclipse, and the glum augurs who predicted my\\nfailure, now mock their own predictions. The uncer-\\ntainties and doubts that hovered over my efforts are\\nturned into assurances, and the peace of mind which I\\nhave at length attained proclaims a lease of endless\\ncontinuance.* The drops of comfort, falling to me in\\nthis balmy air, have renewed my force, and Time itself\\nsubmits to my mastery. For while he may be yet\\nThe figure in this sonnet, though a striking one, is not very\\nsavory.\\n2 Oh, my prophetic Soul, Hamlet (i., 5, 40).\\n^This is a peculiar use of the word lease. The critics give it\\nthe go-by.\\nThe mortal moon here means the deadly, the fatal, the\\ninjurious, as the author elsewhere speaks of a mortal grief, a mortal\\nwound, a mortal engine, a mortal sword, a mortal asp, a mortal\\nfield of battle, etc.\\nThe Quarto reads olives of endless age, an expression which,\\nas olives were emblems of peace, may be the right one but I should\\nprefer to consider the word as a misprint for a lease of endless\\ndate, referring back to the lease mentioned in line 4 as limited.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0232.jp2"}, "233": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 219\\ntriumphing over dull and speechless trib.es, I shall live\\nin my humble verse, and Thou, too, when tyrants crests\\nand tombs of brass are withered, shalt find it an ever-\\nlasting monument.\\nMany critics have tried to give this sonnet\\na historical bearing, which, in my opinion, is\\nnot justified, and strips it of the exceeding\\ninterest it has In its personal Interpretation.\\nAmong others, Mr. Massey Is quoted by Dow-\\nden as saying that It is a song of triumph\\nover the death of Queen Elizabeth, and the\\nrelease of Southampton from the Tower\\nGeorge Brandes more recently takes the same\\nview but it is going a great way afoot to find\\na meaning, when the simple obvious meaning\\nis very touching and beautiful. The poet is\\nwriting of himself, of the growth of his poetic\\nfaculty, and not at all of external events.\\nSon. I2J. Time, thou shalt not boast of effecting\\nany change in me thy monuments, restored by modern\\nenergy, are nothing astonishing or strange to me, but\\nmerely repetitions of what has gone before. Because\\nour days are brief we admire that which thou dost foist\\nupon us as antique, but we rather bring it forth as\\nadapted to our present desire than as something never\\nbefore known. Thy registers and thee I disregard, not\\nwondering at the Present or the Past, because what\\nPyramids metaphor for what has been heaped or piled up.\\nDowden.\\nMake them born to our desire.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0233.jp2"}, "234": {"fulltext": "220 A New Study of\\nthou hast left and what thou doest are made more or\\nless false by the rapidity of thy movements/ This I\\nvow, and will ever uphold, that in spite of thy scythe\\nand thee, or in spite of what thou mayst promise or\\nthreaten, I will be true to myself or to my convictions\\nand ideals.\\nThis sonnet is very instructive, as it seems to\\ndisclose the sentiment of the author, himself a\\ngreat reformer, as to what is due to works of\\nthe Past, particularly those of classical anti-\\nquity, of which so much was made at his time.\\nThey do not impose upon me, he said\\nthey have been largely worked over by\\nmodern effort and they are more or less false\\nbecause of the rapidity of the changes in our\\nconditions. At any rate I will not make them\\na model but be true to myself and to that lofty\\nideal which transcends all time.\\nSon. 124. If my affection was a mere child of cir-\\ncumstances it might be unfathered, or taken away\\nfrom me as a bastard of fortune, subjected to the fa-\\nvors or the dislikes of the day, a weed among weeds\\nor a flower among flowers, as it may happen. But no; it\\nwas not built up as an accident, it does not suffer in the\\nsmiles of pompous pretension, nor does it fall under the\\nblows of that forced discontent, to which the prevailing\\nfashion invites our methods. It does not even fear that\\nheretic policy, or the prudence of self-interest, founded\\nThy changes are so swift, that we have no time to fix our tastes.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0234.jp2"}, "235": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 221\\non short-lived calculations it is in itself so grandly poli-\\ntic, that it cares neither for the heat that helps, nor\\nthe showers that destroy. In witness of the possibility\\nof such a transformation, I refer to those exceptional\\nsouls, who, having lived for crime, were yet able to die\\nin the cause of goodness.\\nSon. I2J. Of what avail has it been to me that in for-\\nmer times I bore the canopy over the head of a momen-\\ntary chief, honoring an external success with an external\\nhomage Of what avail was it that I tried to lay great\\nbases for eternity on such slender foundations that\\nthey have turned into waste and ruin Had I not seen\\nthe worshippers of mere form and favor lose all, or\\nmore than all, by paying too much for what they got, or\\nby foregoing simple tastes for compound sweets Poor\\nstrivers, they spent their strength in gazing about, not\\nattaining any end. As for me, I shall be obsequious\\nonly in thy heart, O Muse, and please accept the obla-\\ntion, which, though poor, is free and unmixed with any\\nsecondary feeling, a mutual render or exchange be-\\ntween myself and thee Away, too, you interested and\\nforsworn defamers,^ and know henceforth that a true\\nIn lines 13 and 14 of this sonnet, the Quarto reads To this I\\nwitness call the soles of time, which die for goodness, who have lived\\nfor crime. In nearly all modern editions the word soles has\\nbeen changed into fools, but I do not see that this change clears\\nthe obscurity. The poet, in Sonnets 123-125, is speaking of the\\ngreat change that has come over his conception as to poetic ideals\\nand methods. In 123 he asserts that it is now so fixed as to be\\nbeyond the influences of time, in 124 he repeats that, as it was not a\\nproduct of accident, it will not again submit to prevailing influ-\\nences and then in the next sonnet, 125, he reiterates that, whatever\\nhis errors may have been, he now entertains only a free, pure, un-\\nadulterated devotion to his love, the Higher Muse.\\nThe phrase thou suborn d informer has puzzled the critics", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0235.jp2"}, "236": {"fulltext": "2 22 A New Study of\\nsoul, when it is most impeached by your charges, is the\\nleast under your control.\\n(6) The Ideal in its Fulness. .^^i-\\nAt length the poet is able to sum up the\\nwhole story, which he does in this grand way\\nSon. loj. Let not this strong affection be regarded\\nas idolatry, or a blind and unreasoning fervor, nor the\\nobject of it pass as a simple idol, because my songs and\\npraises alike are all of one, to one, still such and ever\\nso. My verse is constrained to this monotony, express-\\ning but one sentiment, and leaving out all differences,\\nfor the reason that the object of my love is good to-day\\nand good to-morrow, or ever constant in its surpassing\\nexcellence. Fair, kind, and true, or, varying the\\nphrase, Beauty, Goodness, and Truth, are now my exclu-\\nsive theme, on which I expend all my invention. Three\\nthemes in one, it affords a boundless scope for the exer-\\ncise of the poetic faculty. Beauty, Goodness, and Truth\\neach has had its worshippers and adepts (beauty in art,\\ngoodness in morals, and truth in science), but never un-\\ntil now have the three been held as one, or until Poetry\\nembodies and celebrates the glorious trinity.\\nOur young poet has reached his culmination.\\nsomewhat but it evidently means the same as in Venus and Adonis\\n(655-7), where jealousy is called this sour informer, this bate-\\nbreeding spy, this carry-tale. In Love s Labor s Lost (v., 2,\\n463), carry-tale is also connected with mumble-news. Our\\npoet is simply here giving his parting fling at those who had once\\ndecried his efforts.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0236.jp2"}, "237": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 223\\nHaving passed through what, in the terms\\nof the old guilds, was called apprentice\\nyears, and having strayed far away in his\\nwander years, he has at length reached the\\nmaster years, in which he can do for him-\\nself. He has now a full view of what is to be\\ndone, with a full consciousness of his own\\ncapacity to do it. He sees no longer in his\\npersonification of poetry simply beauty, or\\nsimply beauty dyed in truth, but a sublima-\\ntion of all these qualities in a supreme unit of\\none in three and three in one.^\\nJ Conquest and Triumph.\\nThen it was that the poet, addressing him-\\nself alone, could exclaim, in a tone of more\\nearnest exaltation than usually marked the\\nconventional boasts of his contemporaries\\nSon. 55. Not marble, nor the gilded monuments of\\nprinces, shall outlive this powerful rhyme and you shall\\nHis wonderful instinct of genius anticipated here the theory\\nwhich has become the most satisfactory and universal in modern\\naesthetics. Any one who has read the aesthetic letters of Schiller or\\nthe profound treatises of other followers of Kant can hardly fail, I\\nthink, to discover in these few lines of Shakespeare a clear insight\\ninto the great realm they have entered and so profoundly explored.\\nHamlet and Othello and Lear and Perdita and Imogen and Beatrice\\nare not now afar.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0237.jp2"}, "238": {"fulltext": "224 A New Study of\\nshine in its contents brighter than on any unswept stone,\\nbesmeared by sluttish Time. When wasteful war shall\\nhave overturned the statues, and civil broils uprooted\\nmasonry, neither the sword of Mars, nor the flames of\\nbattle, shall burn away this living record of your mem-\\nory. You shall stand forth untouched by the obliviat-\\ning enmity of death and your merits shall attract the\\nlooks of all posterity, even to the end of all yea, even\\nuntil that final judgment, when you shall arise person-\\nally to meet its decisions, you will still live, an object of\\nesteem to every lover of verse.\\nA trumpet-blast of song Poetry shall out-\\nlast Time, and Genius be honored after the\\nmonuments of kings are buried and a song,\\ntoo, worthy of Shakespeare, who celebrates\\nnot himself so much as the art which accepts\\nhim as its highest impersonation.\\nMr. Carlyle has argued that genius is un-\\nconscious of its power, but, in doing so, hits\\nbeyond his mark. Genius is always a mys-\\ntery it does not itself know the depth of its\\npiercing insights, nor the sweep of its compre-\\nhensive outlooks but it does know that its\\nglances are keener and broader than those of\\nothers, and more likely to endure. Shake-\\nspeare did not distinctly perceive in himself,\\nespecially in his younger days, his potentialities,\\nthe profound philosophy, the vigorous thought,\\nthe exquisite beauty, which critics have since", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0238.jp2"}, "239": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 225\\npicked out of his teeming pages yet, more\\nthan any man of his time, he must have feh the\\npush of a mighty unknown power, and, better\\nthan any man of his time, he expressed exuk-\\ningly what he could not exaggerate.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0239.jp2"}, "240": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0240.jp2"}, "241": {"fulltext": "PART second:\\nTHE ORIGINAL SONNETS AS NEWLY\\nARRANGED.\\n227", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0241.jp2"}, "242": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0242.jp2"}, "243": {"fulltext": "PART second:\\nTHE ORIGINAL SONNETS AS NEWLY\\nARRANGED.\\nTHE Sonnets that follow are copied from Mr.\\nSamuel Butler s reprint of ^q facsimile edition\\nby Mr. T. Tyler, after a comparison with that edition,\\nspecimens of which are to be found in the libraries of\\nThe Players and the Century Clubs, New York.\\nThe numbers to the right are those of the Quarto,\\nand the numbers in the centre are those of the new\\norder. For convenience in reading, the long s has\\nnot been used in this reprint of the Sonnets.\\nI. THE CENTRAL AND EXPLANATORY SONNET.\\nI. 77.\\nTHy glasse will shew thee how thy beauties were,\\nThy dyall how thy pretious mynuits waste,\\nThe vacant leaues thy mindes imprint will beare.\\nAnd of this booke, this learning maist thou taste.\\nThe wrinckles which thy glasse will truly show,\\nOf mouthed graues will giue thee memorie.\\nThou by thy dyals shady stealth maist know,\\nTimes theeuish progresse to eternitie.\\nLocke what thy memorie cannot containe,\\nCommit to these waste blacks, and thou shalt finde\\nThose children nurst, deliuerd from thy braine,\\nTo take a new acquaintance of thy minde.\\nThese offices, so oft as thou wilt looke,\\nShall profit thee, and much inrich thy booke.\\n229", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0243.jp2"}, "244": {"fulltext": "230 A New Study of\\nII. THE INDEPENDENTS OR SOLITARIES.\\n145\\nTHose lips that Loues owne hand did make,\\nBreath d forth the sound that said I hate,\\nTo me that languisht for her sake\\nBut when she saw my wofull state,\\nStraight in her heart did mercie come.\\nChiding that tongue that euer sweet.\\nWas vsde in giuing gentle dome\\nAnd tought it thus a new to greete\\nI hate she alterd with an end.\\nThat follow d it as gentle day.\\nDoth follow night who like a fiend\\nFrom heauen to hell is flowne away\\nI hate, from hate away she threw.\\nAnd sau d my life saying not you.\\n3. 126.\\nOThou my louely Boy who in thy power,\\nDoest hould times fickle glasse, his sickle, hower\\nWho hast by wayning grown e, and therein shou st.\\nThy louers withering, as thy sweet selfe grow st.\\nIf Nature (soueraine misteres ouer wrack)\\nAs thou goest onwards still will plucke thee backe,\\nShe keepes thee to this purpose, that her skill.\\nMay time disgrace, and wretched mynuit kill.\\nYet feare her O thou minnion of her pleasure.\\nShe may detaine, but not still keepe her tresure\\nHer Andite (though delayd) answer d must be,\\nAnd her Quietus is to render thee.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0244.jp2"}, "245": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 231\\n153-\\nCVpid laid by his brand and fell a sleepe,\\nA maide of Dyans this aduantage found,\\nAnd his loue-kindling fire did quickly steepe\\nIn a could vallie-fountaine of that ground\\nWhich borrowd from this holie fire of loue,\\nA datelesse liuely heat still to indure,\\nAnd grew a seething bath which yet men proue,\\nAgainst Strang malladies a soueraigne cure\\nBut at my mistres eie loues brand new fired,\\nThe boy for triall needes would touch my brest,\\nI sick withall the helpe of bath desired,\\nAnd thether hied a sad distempered guest.\\nBut found no cure, the bath for my helpe lies,\\nWhere Cupid got new fire my mistres eye.\\n5- 154-\\nTHe little Loue-God lying once a sleepe,\\nLaid by his side his heart inflaming brand.\\nWhilst many Nymphes that vou d chast life to keep.\\nCame tripping by, but in her maiden hand.\\nThe fayrest votary tooke vp that fire,\\nWhich many Legions of true hearts had warm d,\\nAnd so the Generall of hot desire,\\nWas sleeping by a Virgin hand disarm d.\\nThis brand she quenched in a coole Well by,\\nWhich from loues fire tooke heat perpetuall,\\nGrowing a bath and healthfull remedy.\\nFor men diseasd, but I my Mistrisse thrall,\\nCame there for cure and this by that I proue,\\nLoues fire heates water, water cooles not loue.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0245.jp2"}, "246": {"fulltext": "232 A New Study of\\n6. 19.\\nDEuouring time blunt thou the Lyons pawes,\\nAnd make the earth deuoure her owne sweet brood,\\nPlucke the keene teeth from the fierce Tygers yawes,\\nAnd burne the long liu d Phsenix in her blood,\\nMake glad and sorry seasons as thou fleet st,\\nAnd do what ere thou wilt swift-footed time\\nTo the wide world and all her fading sweets\\nBut I forbid thee one most hainous crime,\\nO carue not with thy howers my loues faire brow,\\nNor draw noe lines there with thine antique pen,\\nHim in thy course vntainted doe allow.\\nFor beauties patterne to succeding men.\\nYet doe thy worst ould Time dispight thy wrong.\\nMy loue shall in my verse euer line young.\\n122.\\nTHy guift, thy tables, are within my braine\\nFull characterd with lasting memory,\\nWhich shall aboue that idle rancke remaine\\nBeyond all date euen to eternity.\\nOr at the least, so long as braine and heart\\nHaue facultie by nature to subsist,\\nTil each to raz d obliuion yeeld his part\\nOf thee, thy record neuer can be mist\\nThat poore retention could not so much hold,\\nNor need I tallies thy deare loue to skore,\\nTherefore to giue them from me was I bold,\\nTo trust those tables that receaue thee more.\\nTo keepe an adiunckt to remember thee.\\nWere to import forgetfulnesse in mee.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0246.jp2"}, "247": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 233\\n8. 81.\\nOR I shall Hue your Epitaph to make,\\nOr you suruiue when I in earth am rotten,\\nFrom hence your memory death cannot take,\\nAlthough in me each part will be forgotten.\\nYour name from hence immortall life shall haue,\\nThough I (once gone) to all the world must dye,\\nThe earth can yeeld me but a common graue.\\nWhen you intombed in mens eyes shall lye,\\nYour monument shall be my gentle verse,\\nWhich eyes not yet created shall ore-read.\\nAnd toungs to be, your beeing shall rehearse,\\nWhen all the breathers of this world are dead.\\nYou still shall Hue (such vertue hath my Pen).\\nWhere breath most breaths, euen in the mouths of men.\\n9. 6s.\\nA Gainst my loue shall be as I am now\\nWith times iniurious hand chrusht and ore-worne.\\nWhen houres haue dreind his blood and fild his brow\\nWith lines and wrincles, when his youthfuU morne\\nHath trauaild on to Ages steepie night.\\nAnd all those beauties whereof now he s King\\nAre vanishing, or vanisht out of sight.\\nStealing away the treasure of his Spring.\\nFor such a time do I now fortifie\\nAgainst confounding Ages cruell knife,\\nThat he shall neuer cut from memory\\nMy sweet loues beauty, though my louers life.\\nHis beautie shall in these blacke lines be seene,\\nAnd they shall Hue, and he in them still greene.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0247.jp2"}, "248": {"fulltext": "234 A New Study of\\nTO. 26.\\nLOrd of my loue, to whome in vassalage\\nThy merrit hath my dutie strongly knit\\nTo thee I send this written ambassage\\nTo witnesse duty, not to shew my wit.\\nDuty so great, which wit so poore as mine\\nMay make seeme bare, in wanting words to shew it\\nBut that I hope some good conceipt of thine\\nIn thy soules thought (all naked) will bestow it\\nTil whatsoeuer star that guides my mouing,\\nPoints on me gratiously with faire aspect,\\nAnd puts apparrell on my tottered louing,\\nTo show me worthy of their sweet respect,\\nThen may I dare to boast how I doe loue thee,\\nTil then, not show my head where thou maist proue me.\\nIII. A PLEA FOR CREATIVE OR POETIC ART.\\nII. 12.\\nWHen I doe count the clock that tels the time,\\nAnd see the braue day sunck in hidious night,\\nWhen 1 behold the violet past prime.\\nAnd sable curls or siluer d ore with white\\nWhen lofty trees I see barren of leaues.\\nWhich erst from heat did canopie the herd\\nAnd Sommers greene all girded vp in sheaues\\nBorne on the beare with white and bristly beard\\nThen of thy beauty do I question make\\nThat thou among the wastes of time must goe.\\nSince sweets and beauties do them-selues forsake,\\nAnd die as fast as they see others grow,\\nAnd nothing gainst Times sieth can make defence\\nSaue breed to braue him, when he takes thee hence.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0248.jp2"}, "249": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 235\\nFRom fairest creatures we desire increase,\\nThat thereby beauties Rose might neuer die,\\nBut as the riper should by time decease,\\nHis tender heire might beare his memory\\nBut thou contracted to thine owne bright eyes,\\nFeed st thy light s flame with selfe substantial! fewell,\\nMaking a famine where aboundance lies.\\nThy selfe thy foe, to thy sweet selfe too cruell\\nThou that art now, the worlds fresh ornament,\\nAnd only herauld to the gaudy spring.\\nWithin thine owne bud buriest thy content,\\nAnd tender chorle makst wast in niggarding\\nPitty the world, or else this glutton be,\\nTo eate the worlds due, by the graue and thee.\\n13-\\nVNthrifty louelinesse why dost thou spend,\\nVpon thy selfe thy beauties legacy\\nNatures bequest gives nothing but doth lend.\\nAnd being franck she lends to those are free\\nThen beautious nigard why doost thou abuse,\\nThe bountious largesse giuen thee to giue\\nProfitles vserer why dost thou vse\\nSo great a summe of summes yet can st not Hue\\nFor hauing traffike with thy selfe alone.\\nThou of thy selfe thy sweet selfe dost deceaue,\\nThen how when nature calls thee to be gone.\\nWhat acceptable Audit can st thou leaue\\nThy vnus d beauty must be tomb d with thee.\\nWhich vsed Hues th executor to be.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0249.jp2"}, "250": {"fulltext": "236 A New Study of\\n14. n\\nFOr shame deny that thou bear st loue to any\\nWho for thy selfe art so vnprouident\\nGraunt if thou wilt, thou art belou d of many,\\nBut that thou none lou st is most euident\\nFor thou art so possest with murdrous hate,\\nThat gainst thy selfe thou stickst not to conspire,\\nSeeking that beautious roofe to ruinate\\nWhich to repnire should be thy chiefe desire\\nO change thy thought, that I may change my minde.\\nShall hate be fairer log d then gentle loue\\nBe as thy presence is gracious and kind,\\nOr to thy selfe at least kind harted proue,\\nMake thee an other selfe for loue of me,\\nThat beauty still may Hue in thine or thee.\\n15.\\nLOoke in thy glasse and tell the face thou vewest,\\nNow is the time that face should forme an other.\\nWhose fresh repaire if now thou not renewest.\\nThou doo st beguile the world, vnblesse some mother.\\nFor where is she so faire whose vn-eard wombe\\nDisdaines the tillage of thy husbandry\\nOr who is he so fond will be the tombe.\\nOf his selfe loue to stop posterity\\nThou art thy mothers glasse and she in thee\\nCalls backe the louely Aprill of her prime.\\nSo thou through windowes of thine age shalt see,\\nDispight of wrinkles this thy goulden time.\\nBut if thou Hue remembred not to be.\\nDie single and thine Image dies with thee.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0250.jp2"}, "251": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 237\\n16. 5.\\nTHose howers that with gentle worke did frame,\\nThe louely gaze where euery eye doth dwell\\nWill play the tirants to the very same,\\nAnd that vnfaire which fairely doth excell\\nFor neuer resting time leads Summer on,\\nTo hidious winter and confounds him there,\\nSap checkt with frost and lustie leau s quite gon.\\nBeauty ore-snow d and barenes euery where.\\nThen were not summers distillation left\\nA liquid prisoner pent in walls of glasse.\\nBeauties effect with beauty were bereft,\\nNor it nor noe remembrance what it was.\\nBut flowers distil d though they with winter meete,\\nLeese but their show, their substance still Hues sweet.\\n17. 6\\nTHen let not winters wragged hand deface,\\nIn thee thy summer ere thou be distil d\\nMake sweet some viall treasure thou some place,\\nWith beauties treasure ere it be selfe kil d\\nThat vsre is not forbidden vsery.\\nWhich happies those that pay the willing lone\\nThat s for thy selfe to breed an other thee,\\nOr ten times happier be it ten for one.\\nTen times thy selfe were happier then thou art,\\nIf ten of thine ten times refigur d thee,\\nThen what could death doe if thou should st depart.\\nLeaning thee liuing in posterity\\nBe not selfe-wild for thou art much too faire.\\nTo be deaths conquest and make wormes thine heire.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0251.jp2"}, "252": {"fulltext": "238 A New Study of\\nWHen fortie Winters shall beseige thy brow,\\nAnd digge deep trenches in thy beauties field,\\nThy youthes proud liuery so gaz d on now,\\nWil be a totter d weed of smal worth held\\nThen being askt, where all thy beautie lies,\\nWhere all the treasure of thy lusty daies\\nTo say within thine owne deepe sunken eyes,\\nWere an all-eating shame, and thriftlesse praise.\\nHow much more praise deseru d thy beauties vse.\\nIf thou couldst answere this faire child of mine\\nShall sum my count, and make my old excuse\\nProouing his beautie by succession thine.\\nThis were to be new made when thou art ould.\\nAnd see thy blood warme when thou feel st it could.\\n19, II.\\nAS fast as thou shalt wane so fast thou grow st\\nIn one of thine, from that which thou departest,\\nAnd that fresh bloud which yongly thou bestow st.\\nThou maist call thine, when thou from youth conuertest.\\nHerein Hues wisdome, beauty, and increase,\\nWithout this follie, age, and could decay.\\nIf all were minded so, the times should cease.\\nAnd threescoore yeare would make the world away\\nLet those whom nature hath not made for store.\\nHarsh, featurelesse, and rude, barrenly perrish,\\nLooke whom she best indow d, she gaue the more\\nWhich bountious guift thou shouldst in bounty cherrish.\\nShe caru d thee for her scale, and ment therby.\\nThou shouldst print more, not let that coppy die.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0252.jp2"}, "253": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 239\\nIs it for feare to wet a widdowes eye,\\nThat thou consum st thy selfe in single life\\nAh if thou issulesse shalt hap to die,\\nThe world will waile thee like a makelesse wife,\\nThe world wilbe thy widdow and still weepe.\\nThat thou no forme of thee hast left behind,\\nWhen euery priuat widdow well may keepe.\\nBy childrens eyes, her husbands shape in minde\\nLooke what an vnthrift in the world doth spend\\nShifts but his place, for still the world inioyes it\\nBut beauties waste, hath in the world an end,\\nAnd kept vnvsde the vser so destroyes it\\nNo loue toward others in that bosome sits\\nThat on himselfe such murdrous shame commits.\\n21. 13.\\nOThat you were your selfe, but loue you are\\nNo longer yours, then you your selfe here Hue,\\nAgainst this cumming end you should prepare.\\nAnd your sweet semblance to some other giue.\\nSo should that beauty which you hold in lease\\nFind no determination, then you were\\nYou selfe again after your selfes decease,\\nWhen your sweet issue your sweet forme should beare.\\nWho lets so faire a house fall to decay.\\nWhich husbandry in honour might vphold,\\nAgainst the stormy gusts of winters day\\nAnd barren rage of deaths eternall cold\\nO none but vnthrifts, deare my loue you know.\\nYou had a Father, let your Son say so.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0253.jp2"}, "254": {"fulltext": "240 A New Study of\\n22.\\nLOe in the Orient when the gracious light,\\nLifts vp his burning head, each vnder eye\\nDoth homage to his new appearing sight,\\nSeruing with lookes his sacred maiesty,\\nAnd hauing climb d the steepe vp heauenly hill.\\nResembling strong youth in his middle age,\\nYet mortall lookes adore his beauty still,\\nAttending on his goulden pilgrimage\\nBut when from high-most pich with wery car.\\nLike feeble age he reeleth from the day.\\nThe eyes (fore dutious) now conuerted are\\nFrom his low tract and looke an other way\\nSo thou, thy selfe out-going in thy noon\\nVnlok d on diest vnlesse thou get a sonne.\\n23-\\nMVsick to heare, why hear st thou musick sadly.\\nSweets with sweets warre not, ioy delights in ioy\\nWhy lou st thou that which thou receaust not gladly,\\nOr else receau st with pleasure thine annoy\\nIf the true concord of well tuned sounds,\\nBy vnions married do offend thine eare.\\nThey do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds\\nIn singlenesse the parts that thou should st beare\\nMarke how one string sweet husband to an other.\\nStrike each in each by mutuall ordering\\nResembling sier, and child, and happy mother,\\nWho all in one, one pleasing note do sing\\nWhose speechlesse song being many, seeming one.\\nSings this to thee thou single wilt proue none.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0254.jp2"}, "255": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 241\\n24. 15.\\nWHen I consider euery thing that growes\\nHold sin perfection but a little moment.\\nThat this huge stage presenteth nought but showes\\nWhereon the Stars in secret influence comment,\\nWhen I perceiue that men as plants increase,\\nCheared and checkt euen by the selfe-same skie\\nVaunt in their youthfull sap, at height decrease,\\nAnd were their braue state out of memory.\\nThen the conceit of this inconstant stay,\\nSets you most rich in youth before my sight,\\nWhere wastfull time debateth with decay\\nTo change your day of youth to sullied night,\\nAnd all in war with Time for loue of you\\nAs he takes from you, I ingraft you new.\\n25. 16.\\nBVt wherefore do not you a mightier waie\\nMake warre vppon this bloudie tirant time\\nAnd fortifie your selfe in your decay\\nWith meanes more blessed then my barren rime\\nNow stand you on the top of happie houres.\\nAnd many maiden gardens yet vnset.\\nWith vertuous wish would beare your lining flowers,\\nMuch liker then your painted counterfeit\\nSo should the lines of life that life repaire\\nWhich this (Times pensel or my pupill pen)\\nNeither in inward worth nor outward faire\\nCan make you Hue your selfe in eies of men,\\nTo giue away your selfe, keeps your selfe still.\\nAnd you must liue drawne by your owne sweet skill.\\n16", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0255.jp2"}, "256": {"fulltext": "242 A New Study of\\n26. 17.\\nWHo will beleeue my verse in time to come\\nIf it were fild with your most high deserts\\nThough yet heauen knowes it is but as a tombe\\nWhich hides your life, and shewes not halfe your parts\\nIf I could write the beauty of your eyes,\\nAnd in fresh numbers number all your graces,\\nThe age to come would say this Poet lies,\\nSuch heauenly touches nere toucht earthly faces.\\nSo should my papers (yellowed with their age)\\nBe scorn d, like old men of lesse truth then tongue,\\nAnd your true rights be termd a Poets rage,\\nAnd stretched miter of an Antique song.\\nBut were some childe of yours aliue that time.\\nYou should liue twise in it, and in my rime.\\n27. 14\\nNot from the stars do I my iudgement plucke.\\nAnd yet me thinkes 1 haue Astronomy,\\nBut not to tell of good or euil lucke,\\nOf plagues, of dearths, or seasons quallity,\\nNor can I fortune to breefe mynuits tell\\nPointing to each his thunder, raine and winde.\\nOr say with Princes if it shal go wel\\nBy oft predict that I in heauen finde.\\nBut from thine eies my knowledge I deriue,\\nAnd constant stars in them I read such art\\nAs truth and beautie shall together thriue\\nIf from thy selfe, to store thou wouldst conuert\\nOr else of thee this I prognosticate.\\nThy end is Truthes and Beauties doome and date.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0256.jp2"}, "257": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 243\\nIV. A YOUNG LOVE-TIME.\\n28. 25.\\nLEt those who are in fauor with their stars,\\nOf publike honour and proud titles host,\\nWhilst I whome fortune of such tryumph bars\\nVnlookt for ioy in that I honour most\\nGreat Princes fauorites their faire leaues spread\\nBut as the Marygold at the suns eye,\\nAnd in them-selues their pride lies buried.\\nFor at a frowne they in their glory die.\\nThe painefull warrier famosed for worth,\\nAfter a thousand victories once foild,\\nIs from the booke of honour rased quite.\\nAnd all the rest forgot for which he toild\\nThen happy I that loue and am beloued\\nWhere I may not remoue nor be remoued.\\n29. 21.\\nSO is it not with me as with that Muse,\\nStird by a painted beauty to his verse.\\nWho heauen it selfe for ornament doth vse,\\nAnd euery faire with his faire doth reherse.\\nMaking a coopelment of proud compare\\nWith Sunne and Moone, with earth and seas rich gems\\nWith Aprills first borne flowers and all things rare,\\nThat heauens ayre in this huge rondure hems,\\nO let me true in loue but truly write,\\nAnd then beleeue me, my loue is as faire.\\nAs any mothers childe, though not so bright\\nAs those gould candells fixt in heauens ayer\\nLet them say more that like of heare-say well,\\nI will not prayse that purpose not to sell.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0257.jp2"}, "258": {"fulltext": "244 A New Study of\\n30. 130.\\nMY Mistres eyes are nothing like the Sunne,\\nCurrall is farre more red, then her lips red,\\nIf snow be white, why then her brests are dun\\nIf haires be wiers, black wiers grow on her head\\nI haue seene Roses damaskt, red and white,\\nBut no such Roses see I in her cheekes,\\nAnd in some perfumes is there more delight,\\nThen in the breath that from my Mistres reekes.\\nI loue to hear her speake, yet well I know,\\nThat Musicke hath a farre more pleasing sound\\nI graunt I neuer saw a goddesse goe.\\nMy Mistres when shee walkes treads on the ground.\\nAnd yet by heauen I thinke my loue as rare,\\nAs any she beli d with false compare.\\n31. 18.\\nSHall I compare thee to a Summers day\\nThou art more louely and more temperate\\nRough windes do shake the darling buds of Maie,\\nAnd Sommers lease hath all too short a date\\nSometime too hot the eye of heauen shines,\\nAnd often is his gold complexion dimn d,\\nAnd euery faire from faire some-time declines.\\nBy chance, or natures changing course vntrim d\\nBut thy eternall Sommer shall not fade.\\nNor loose possession of that faire thou ow st,\\nNor shall death brag thou wandr st in his shade.\\nWhen in eternall lines to time thou grow st.\\nSo long as men can breath or eyes can see.\\nSo long Hues this, and this giues life to thee.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0258.jp2"}, "259": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 245\\n32. 104.\\nTo me faire friend you neuer can be old,\\nFor as you were when first your eye I eyde,\\nSuch seemes your beautie still Three Winters colde,\\nHaue from the forrests shooke three summers pride,\\nThree beautious springs to yellow Autumne turn d,\\nIn processe of the seasons haue I seene,\\nThree Aprill perfumes in three hot lunes burn d,\\nSince first I saw you fresh which yet are greene.\\nAh yet doth beauty like a Dyall hand,\\nSteale from his figure, and no pace perceiu d,\\nSo your sweete hew, which me thinkes still doth stand\\nHath motion, and mine eye may be deceaued.\\nFor feare of which, heare this thou age vnbred.\\nEre you were borne was beauties summer dead.\\n33- 22.\\nMY glasse shall not perswade me I am ould,\\nSo long as youth and thou are of one date.\\nBut when in thee times forrwes I behould,\\nThen look I death my daies should expiate.\\nFor all that beauty that doth couer thee.\\nIs but the seemely rayment of my heart,\\nWhich in thy brest doth liue, as thine in me,\\nHow can I then be elder then thou art\\nO therefore loue be of thy selfe so wary,\\nAs I not for my selfe, but for thee will,\\nBearing thy heart which I will keepe so chary\\nAs tender nurse her babe from faring ill,\\nPerfume not on thy heart when mine is slaine, [\u00e2\u0096\u00a0^iC^A^^i^^\\nThou gau st me thine not to giue backe againe.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0259.jp2"}, "260": {"fulltext": "246 A New Study of\\n34- 32-\\nIF thou suruiue my well contented daie,\\nWhen that churle death my bones with dust shall couer\\nAnd shalt by fortune once more re-suruay\\nThese poore rude lines of thy deceased Louer\\nCompare them with the bett ring of the time,\\nAnd though they be out-stript by euery pen,\\nReserue them for my loue, not for their rime,\\nExceeded by the hight of happier men.\\nOh then voutsafe me but this louing thought,\\nHad my friends Muse growne with this growing age,\\nA dearer birth then this his love had brought\\nTo march in ranckes of better equipage\\nBut since he died and Poets better proue.\\nTheirs for their stile ile read, his for his loue.\\n35- 50-\\nHOw heauie doe I iourney on the way.\\nWhen what I seeke (my wearie trauels end)\\nDoth teach that ease and that repose to say\\nThus farre the miles are measurde from thy friend.\\nThe beast that beares me, tired with my woe,\\nPlods duly on, to beare that waight in me,\\nAs if by some instinct the wretch did know\\nHis rider lou d not speed being made from thee\\nThe bloody spurre cannot prouoke him on.\\nThat some-times anger thrusts into his hide,\\nWhich heauily he answers with a grone.\\nMore sharpe to me then spurring to his side.\\nFor that same grone doth put this in my mind.\\nMy greefe lies onward and my ioy behind.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0260.jp2"}, "261": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 247\\n36. 5I\\nTHus can my loue excuse the slow offence,\\nOf my dull bearer, when from thee I speed,\\nFrom where thou art, why shoulld I hast me thence,\\nTill I returne of posting is noe need.\\nO what excuse will my poore beast then find,\\nWhen swift extremity can seeme but slow,\\nThen should I spurre though mounted on the wind,\\nIn winged speed no motion shall I know,\\nThen can no horse with my desire keepe pace.\\nTherefore desire (of perfects loue being made)\\nShall naigh noe dull flesh in his fiery race.\\nBut loue, for loue, thus shall excuse my iade.\\nSince from thee going, he went wilfull slow.\\nTowards thee ile run, and giue him leaue to goe.\\n37- 27.\\nWEary with toyle, I hast me to my bed.\\nThe deare repose for lims with trauaill tired,\\nBut then begins a iourny in my head\\nTo worke my mind, when boddies work s expired.\\nFor then my thoughts (from far where I abide)\\nIntend a zelous pilgrimage to thee\\nAnd keepe my drooping eye-lids open wide,\\nLooking on darknes which the blind doe see.\\nSaue that my soules imaginary sight\\nPresents their shaddoe to my sightles view.\\nWhich like a iewell (hunge in gastly night)\\nMakes blacke night beautious, and her old face new.\\nLoe thus by day my lims, by night my mind.\\nFor thee, and for my selfe, noe quiet finde.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0261.jp2"}, "262": {"fulltext": "248 A New Study of\\n38. 28.\\nHOw can I then returne in happy plight\\nThat am debard the benifit of rest\\nWhen daies oppression is not eazd by night,\\nBut day by night and night by day oprest.\\nAnd each (though enimes to ethers raigne)\\nDoe in consent shake hands to torture me,\\nThe one by toyle, the other to complaine\\nHow far I toyle, still farther off from thee.\\nI tell the Day to please him thou art bright.\\nAnd do st him grace when clouds doe blot the heauen\\nSo flatter I the swart complexiond night,\\nWhen sparkling stars twire not thou guil st th eauen,\\nBut day doth daily draw my sorrowes longer, [stronger\\nAnd night doth nightly make greefes length seeme\\n39- 44-\\nIF the dull substance of my flesh were thought,\\nIniurious distance should not stop my way.\\nFor then dispight of space I would be brought.\\nFrom limits farre remote, where thou doost stay,\\nNo matter then although my foote did stand\\nVpon the farthest earth remoou d from thee.\\nFor nimble thought can iumpe both sea and land.\\nAs soone as thinke the place where he would be.\\nBut ah, thought kills me that I am not thought\\nTo leape large lengths of miles when thou art gone,\\nBut that so much of earth and water wrought,\\nI must attend, times leasure with my mone.\\nReceiuing naughts by elements so sloe.\\nBut heauie teares, badges of eithers woe.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0262.jp2"}, "263": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 249\\n40. 45-\\nTHe other two, slight ayre, and purging fire,\\nAre both with thee, where euer I abide.\\nThe first my thought, the other my desire,\\nThese present absent with swift motion slide,\\nFor when these quicker Elements are gone\\nIn tender Embassie of loue to thee.\\nMy life being made of foure, with two alone,\\nSinkes downe to death, opprest with melancholia,\\nVntill Hues composition be recured,\\nBy those swift messengers return d from thee,\\nWho euen but now come back againe assured,\\nOf their faire health, recounting it to me.\\nThis told, I ioy, but then no longer glad,\\nI send them back againe and straight grow sad.\\n41. 46-\\nMine eye and heart are at a mortall warre.\\nHow to deuide the conquest of thy sight.\\nMine eye, my heart their pictures sight would barre.\\nMy heart, mine eye the freedome of that right,\\nMy heart doth plead that thou in him doost lye,\\n(A closet neuer pearst with christall eyes)\\nBut the defendant doth that plea deny.\\nAnd sayes in him their faire appearance lyes,\\nTo side this title is impannelled\\nA quest of thoughts, all tennants to the heart,\\nAnd by their verdict is determined\\nThe cleere eyes moyitie, and he deare hearts part.\\nAs thus, mine eyes due is their outward part.\\nAnd my hearts right, their inward loue of heart.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0263.jp2"}, "264": {"fulltext": "250 A New Study of\\n42. 47.\\nBEtwixt mine eye and heart a league is tooke,\\nAnd each doth good turnes now vnto the other,\\nWhen that mine eye is famisht for a looke,\\nOr heart in loue with sighes himselfe doth smother\\nWith my loues picture then my eye doth feast,\\nAnd to the painted banquet bids my heart\\nAn other time mine eye is my hearts guest.\\nAnd in his thoughts of loue doth share a part.\\nSo either by thy picture or my loue.\\nThy seife away, are present still with me.\\nFor thou nor farther then my thoughts canst moue,\\nAnd I am still with them, and they with thee.\\nOr if they sleepe, thy picture in my sight\\nAwakes my heart, to hearts and eyes delight.\\n43- 52.\\nSO am I as the rich whose blessed key.\\nCan bring him to his sweet vp-locked treasure,\\nThe which he will not eu ry hower suruay.\\nFor blunting the fine point of seldome pleasure.\\nTherefore are feasts so sollemne and so rare,\\nSince sildom comming in the long yeare set,\\nLike stones of worth they thinly placed are,\\nOr captaine lewells in the carconet.\\nSo is the time that keepes you as my chest,\\nOr as the ward-robe which the robe doth hide,\\nTo make some speciall instant speciall blest,\\nBy new vnfoulding his imprison d pride.\\nBlessed are you whose worthinesse giues skope,\\nBeing had to tryumph, being lackt to hope.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0264.jp2"}, "265": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 251\\n44- 30-\\nWHen to the Sessions of sweet silent thought,\\nI sommon vp remembrance of things past,\\nI sigh the lacke of many a thing I sought.\\nAnd with old woes new waile my deare times waste\\nThen can I drowne an eye (vn-vs d to flow)\\nFor precious friends hid in deaths dateles night,\\nAnd weepe a fresh loues long since canceld woe,\\nAnd mone th expence of many a vannisht sight.\\nThen can I greeue at greeuances fore-gon,\\nAnd heauily from woe to woe tell ore\\nThe sad account of fore-bemoned mone,\\nWhich I new pay, as if not payd before.\\nBut if the while I thinke on thee (deare friend)\\nAll losses are restord, and sorrowes end.\\n45- 31-\\nTHy bosome is indeared with all hearts,\\nWhich I by lacking haue supposed dead.\\nAnd there raignes Loue and all Loues louing parts.\\nAnd all those friends which I thought buried.\\nHow many a holy and obsequious teare\\nHath deare religious loue stolne from mine eye,\\nAs interest of the dead, which now appeare.\\nBut things remou d that hidden in there lie.\\nThou art the graue where buried loue doth Hue,\\nHung with the tropheis of my louers gon.\\nWho all their parts of me to thee did giue,\\nThat due of many, now is thine alone.\\nTheir images I lou d, I view in thee,\\nAnd thou (all they) hast all the all of me.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0265.jp2"}, "266": {"fulltext": "252 A New Study of\\n46. 4!\\nHOw carefull was I when I tooke my way,\\nEach trifle vnder truest barres to thrust,\\nThat to my vse it might vn-vsed stay\\nFrom hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust\\nBut thou, to whom my iewels trifles are,\\nMost worthy comfort, now my greatest griefe.\\nThou best of deerest, and mine onely care,\\nArt left the prey of euery vulgar theefe.\\nThee haue I not lockt vp in any chest,\\nSaue where thou art not, though I feele thou art,\\nWithin the gentle closure of my brest.\\nFrom whence at pleasure thou maist come and part,\\nAnd euen thence thou wilt be stolne I feare.\\nFor truth prooues theeuish for a prize so deare.\\n47. 116.\\nLEt me not to the marriage of true mindes\\nAdmit impediments, loue is not loue\\nWhich alters when it alteration Andes,\\nOr bends with the remouer to remoue.\\nO no, it is an euer fixed marke\\nThat lookes on tempests and is neuer shaken\\nIt is the star to euery v/andring barke.\\nWhose worths vnknowne, although his higth be taken.\\nLou s not Times foole, though rosie lips and cheeks\\nWithin his bending sickles compasse come,\\nLoue alters not with his breefe houres and weekes,\\nBut beares it out euen to the edge of doome\\nIf this be error and vpon me proued,\\nI neuer writ, nor no man euer loued.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0266.jp2"}, "267": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 253\\n48. 115-\\nTHose lines that I before haue writ doe lie,\\nEuen those that said I could not loue you deerer,\\nYet then my iudgement knew no reason why.\\nMy most full flame should afterwards burne cleerer,\\nBut reckening time, whose milliond accidents\\nCreepe in twixt vowes, and change decrees of Kings,\\nTan sacred beautie, blunt the sharp st intents,\\nDiuert strong mindes to th course of altring things\\nAlas why fearing of times tiranie,\\nMight I not then say now I loue you best,\\nWhen I was certaine ore in-certainty,\\nCrowning the present, doubting of the rest\\nLoue is a Babe, then might I not say so\\nTo giue full growth to that which still doth grow.\\n49- 137-\\nTHou blinde foole loue, what doost thou to mine eyes,\\nThat they behold and see not what they see\\nThey know what beautie is, see where it lyes,\\nYet what the best is, take the worst to be\\nIf eyes corrupt by ouer-partiall lookes,\\nBe anchord in the baye where all men ride,\\nWhy of eyes falsehood hast thou forged hookes.\\nWhereto the iudgement of my heart is tide\\nWhy should my heart thinke that a seuerall plot.\\nWhich my heart knowes the wide worlds common place\\nOr mine eyes seeing this, say this is not\\nTo put faire truth vpon so foule a face,\\nIn things right true my heart and eyes haue erred,\\nAnd to this false plague are they now transferred.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0267.jp2"}, "268": {"fulltext": "254 A New Study of\\n50- 54.\\nOH how much more doth beautie beantious seeme,\\nBy that sweet ornament which truth doth giue,\\nThe Rose lookes faire, but fairer we it deeme\\nFor that sweet odor, which doth in it liue\\nThe Canker bloomes haue full as deepe a die,\\nAs the perfumed tincture of the Roses,\\nHang on such thornes, and play as wantonly\\nWhen sommers breath their masked buds discloses\\nBut for their virtue only is their show,\\nThey liue vnwoo d, and vnrespected fade.\\nDie to themselues. Sweet Roses doe not so,\\nOf their sweet deathes, are sweetest odors made\\nAnd so of you, beautious and louely youth,\\nWhen that shall vade, by verse distils your truth.\\n51. 69.\\nTHose parts of thee that the worlds eye doth view,\\nWant nothing that the thought of hearts can mend\\nAll toungs (the voice of fouies) giue thee that end,\\nVttring bare truth, euen so as foes Commend.\\nTheir outward thus with outward praise is crownd,\\nBut those same tongues that giue thee so thine owne.\\nIn other accents doe this praise confound\\nBy seeing farther then the eye hath showne.\\nThey looke into the beauty of thy mind.\\nAnd that in guesse they measure by thy deeds,\\nThen churls their thoughts (although their eies were\\nkind)\\nTo thy faire flower ad the rancke smell of weeds,\\nBut why thy odor matcheth not thy show.\\nThe solye is this, that thou doest common grow.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0268.jp2"}, "269": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 255\\n52. 70.\\nTHat thou art blam d shall not be thy defect,\\nFor slanders marke was euer yet the faire,\\nThe ornament of beauty is suspect,\\nA Crow that flies in heauens sweetest ayre.\\nSo thou be good, slander doth but approue,\\nTheir worth the greater being woo d of time,\\nFor Canker vice the sweetest buds doth loue,\\nAnd thou present st a pure vnstayined prime.\\nThou hast past by the ambush of young daies,\\nEither not assayld, or victor beeing charg d.\\nYet this thy praise cannot be foe thy praise.\\nTo tye vp enuy, euermore inlarged.\\nIf some suspect of ill maskt not thy show,\\nThen thou alone kingdomes of hearts shouldst owe.\\n53. 121.\\nTIS better to be vile then vile esteemed,\\nWhen not to be, receiues reproach of being.\\nAnd the iust pleasure lost, which is so deemed,\\nNot by our feeling, but by others seeing.\\nFor why should others false adulterat eyes\\nGiue salutation to my sportiue blood\\nOr on my frailties why are frailer spies\\nWhich in their wils count bad what I think good\\nNoe, I am that I am, and they that leuell\\nAt my abuses, reckon vp their owne,\\nI may be straight though they them-selues be beuel\\nBy their rancke thoughtes, my deeds must not be shown\\nVnlesse this generall euill they maintaine,\\nAll men are bad and in their badnesse raigne.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0269.jp2"}, "270": {"fulltext": "256 A New Study of\\n54. 94.\\nTHey that haue powre to hurt, and will doe none,\\nThat doe not do the thing, they most do showe.\\nWho mouing others, are themselues as stone,\\nVnmooued, could, and to temptation slow\\nThey rightly do inherrit heauens graces,\\nAnd husband natures ritches from expence.\\nThey are the Lords and owners of their faces,\\nOthers, but stewards of their excellence\\nThe sommers flowre is to the sommer sweet.\\nThough to it selfe, it onely Hue and die,\\nBut if that flowre with base infection meete\\nThe basest weed out-braues his dignity\\nFor sweetest things turne sowrest by their deedes,\\nLillies that fester, smell far worse than weeds.\\n55- 66.\\nTYr d with all these for restfull death I cry,\\nAs to behold desert a begger borne\\nAnd needie Nothing trimd in iollitie.\\nAnd purest faith vnhappily forsworne.\\nAnd gilded honor shamefully misplast,\\nAnd maiden vertue rudely strumpeted,\\nAnd right perfection wrongfully disgrac d,\\nAnd strength by limping sway disabled.\\nAnd arte made tung-tide by authoritie,\\nAnd Folly (Doctor-like) controuling skill,\\nAnd simple-Truth miscalde Simplicitie,\\nAnd captiue-good attending Captaine ill.\\nTyr d with all these, from these would I be gone,\\nSaue that to dye, I leaue my loue alone.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0270.jp2"}, "271": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 257\\n56. 67.\\nAH wherefore with infection should he Hue,\\nAnd with his presence grace impietie,\\nThat sinne by him aduantage should atchiue,\\nAnd lace it selfe with his societie\\nWhy should false painting immitate his cheeke,\\nAnd steale dead seeing of his liuing hew\\nWhy should poore beautie indirectly seeke\\nRoses of shaddow, since his Rose is true\\nWhy should he Hue, now nature banckrout is,\\nBeggerd of blood to blush through liuely vaines,\\nFor she hath no exchecker now but his,\\nAnd proud of many, Hues vpon his gaines\\nO him she stores, to show what welth she had\\nIn daies long since, before these last so bad.\\n57. 68.\\nTHus is his cheeke the map of daies out-worne.\\nWhen beauty liu d and dy ed as flowers do now,\\nBefore these bastard signes of faire were borne,\\nOr durst inhabit on a liuing brow\\nBefore the goulden tresses of the dead.\\nThe right of sepulchers, were shorne away,\\nTo Hue a spond life on second head,\\nEre beauties dead fleece made another gay\\nIn him those holy antique howers are scene,\\nWithout all ornament, it selfe and true.\\nMaking no summer of an others greene.\\nRobbing no ould to dresse his beauty new,\\nAnd him as for a map doth Nature store,\\nTo shew faulse Art what beauty was of yore.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0271.jp2"}, "272": {"fulltext": "258 A New Study of\\n58. 73.\\nTHat time of yeeare thou maist in me behold,\\nWhen yellow leaues, or none, or few doe hange\\nVpon those boughes which shake against the could,\\nBare rnVd quiers, where late the sweet birds sang.\\nIn me thou seest the twi-light of such day,\\nAs after Sun-set fadeth in the West,\\nWhich by and by blacke night doth take away.\\nDeaths second selfe that seals vp all in rest.\\nIn me thou seest the glowing of such fire,\\nThat on the ashes of his youth doth lye,\\nAs the death bed, whereon it must expire,\\nConsum d with that which it was nurrisht by.\\nThis thou perceu st, which makes thy loue more strong,\\nTo loue that well, which thou must leaue ere long.\\n59- 71.\\nNOe Longer mourne for me when I am dead.\\nThen you shall heare the surly sullen bell\\nGiue warning to the world that I am fled\\nFrom this vile world with vildest wormes to dwell\\nNay if you read this line, remember not.\\nThe hand that writ it, for I loue you so.\\nThat I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,\\nIf thinking on me then should make you woe.\\nO if (I say) you looke vpon this verse.\\nWhen I (perhaps) compounded am with clay.\\nDo not so much as my poore name reherse\\nBut let your loue euen with my life decay.\\nLeast the wise world should looke into your mone,\\nAnd mogke you with me after I am gon.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0272.jp2"}, "273": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 259\\n60. 72.\\nO Least the world should taske you to recite,\\nWhat merit liu d in me that you should loue\\nAfter my death (deare loue) for get me quite,\\nFor you in me can nothing worthy proue.\\nVnless you would deuise some vertuous lye,\\nTo doe more for me then mine owne desert,\\nAnd hang more praise vpon deceased I,\\nThen nigard truth would willingly impart\\nO least your true loue may seeme falce in this,\\nThat you for loue speake well of me vntrue,\\nMy name be buried where my body is.\\nAnd Hue no more to shame nor me, nor you.\\nFor I am shamd by that which I bring forth,\\nAnd so should you, to loue things nothing worth.\\n61. 74.\\nBVt be contented when that fell arest,\\nWith out all bayle shall carry me away,\\nMy life hath in this line some interest,\\nWhich for memoriall still with thee shall stay.\\nWhen thou reuewest this, thou doest reueAV,\\nThe very part was consecrate to thee.\\nThe earth can haue but earth, which is his due,\\nMy spirit is thine the better part of me.\\nSo then thou hast but lost the dregs of life,\\nThe pray of wormes, my body being dead,\\nThe coward conquest of a wretches knife,\\nTo base of thee to be remembred,\\nThe worth of that, is that which it containes.\\nAnd that is this, and this with thee remaines.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0273.jp2"}, "274": {"fulltext": "26o A New Study of\\n62. 97.\\nHOw like a Winter hath my absence beene\\nFrom thee, the pleasure of the fleeting yeare\\nWhat freezings haue I felt, what darke dales scene\\nWhat old Decembers barenesse euery where\\nAnd yet this time remou d was sommers time,\\nThe teeming Autumne big with ritch increase,\\nBearing the wanton burthen of the prime.\\nLike widdowed wombes after their Lords decease\\nYet this aboundant issue seem d to me.\\nBut hope of Orphans, and vn-fathered fruite,\\nFor Sommer and his pleasures waite on thee,\\nAnd thou away, the very birds are mute.\\nOr if they sing, tis with so dull a cheere.\\nThat leaues looke pale, dreading the Winters neere.\\n63. 98.\\nFRom you haue I beene absent in the spring,\\nWhen proud pide Aprill (drest in all his trim)\\nHath put a spirit of youth in euery thing\\nThat heauie Saturne laught and leapt with him.\\nYet nor the laies of birds, nor the sweet smell\\nOf different flowers in odor and in hew.\\nCould make me any summers story tell\\nOr from their proud lap pluck them where they grew\\nNor did I wonder at the Lillies white.\\nNor praise the deepe vermillion in the Rose,\\nThey weare but sweet, but figures of delight\\nDrawne after you, you patterne of all those.\\nYet seem d it Winter still, and you away.\\nAs with your shaddow I with these did play.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0274.jp2"}, "275": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 261\\n64. 99.\\nTHe forward violet thus did I chide,\\nSweet theefe whence didst thou steale thy sweet that\\nIf not from my loues breath, the purple pride, (smels\\nWhich on thy soft cheeke for complexion dwells\\nIn my loues veines thou hast too grosely died\\nThe Lillie I condemned for thy hand,\\nAnd buds of marierom had stolne thy haire,\\nThe Roses fearefuUy on thornes did stand.\\nOur blushing shame, an other white dispaire\\nA third nor red, nor white, had stolne of both,\\nAnd to his robbry had annext thy breath.\\nBut for his theft in pride of all his growth\\nA vengfull canker eate him vp to death.\\nMore flowers I noted, yet I none could see.\\nBut sweet, or culler it had stolne from thee.\\n65. 29.\\nWHen in disgrace with Fortune and mens eyes,\\nI all alone beweepe my out-cast state.\\nAnd trouble deafe heauen with my bootlesse cries,\\nAnd looke vpon my self and curse my fate.\\nWishing me like to one more rich in hope,\\nFeatur d like him, like him with friends possest,\\nDesiring this mans art, and that mans skope.\\nWith what I most inioy contented least,\\nYet in these thoughts my selfe almost despising,\\nHaplye I thinke on thee, and then my state,\\n(Like to the Larke at breake of daye arising)\\nFrom sullen earth sings himns at Heauens gate.\\nFor thy sweet loue remembred such welth brings,\\nThat then I skorne to change my state with Kings.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0275.jp2"}, "276": {"fulltext": "262 A New Study of\\nV. THE EPISODE OF THE DARK LADY.\\n66, 23.\\nAS an vnperfect actor on the stage,\\nWho with his feare is put besides his part,\\nOr some fierce thing repleat with too much rage,\\nWhose strengths abondance weakens his owne heart\\nSo I for feare of trust, forget to say,\\nThe perfect ceremony of loues right.\\nAnd in mine owne loues strength seeme to decay,\\nOre-charg d with burthen of mine owne loues might\\nO let my books be then the eloquence,\\nAnd domb presagers of my speaking brest.\\nWho pleade for love, and looke for recompence.\\nMore then that tonge that more hath more exprest.\\nO learne to read what silent loue hath writ,\\nTo heare wit eies belongs to loues fine wiht.\\n67. 127.\\nIN the ould age blacke was not counted faire.\\nOr if it weare it bore not beauties name\\nBut now is blacke beauties successive heire,\\nAnd Beautie slanderd with a bastard shame,\\nFor since each hand hath put on Natures power,\\nFairing the foule with Arts faulse borrow d face,\\nSweet beauty hath no name no holy boure.\\nBut is prophan d, if not lines in disgrace.\\nTherefore my Mistresse eyes are Rauen blacke,\\nHer eyes so suted, and they mourners seeme,\\nAt such who not borne faire no beauty lack,\\nSlandring Creation with a false esteeme,\\nYet so they mourne becomming of their woe.\\nThat euery toung saies beauty should looke so.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0276.jp2"}, "277": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 263\\n68. 131.\\nTHou art as tiranous, so as thou art,\\nAs those whose beauties proudly make them cruell\\nFor well thou know st to my deare doting hart\\nThou art the fairest and most precious lewell.\\nYet in good faith some say that thee behold,\\nThy face hath not the power to make loue grone\\nTo say they erre, I dare not be so bold,\\nAlthough I sweare it to my selfe alone.\\nAnd to be sure that is not false I sweare\\nA thousand grones but thinking on thy face,\\nOne on anothers necke do witnesse beare\\nThy blacke is fairest in my iudgements place.\\nIn nothing art thou blacke saue in thy deeds,\\nAnd thence this slaunder as I thinke proceeds.\\n69. 132.\\nTHine eies I loue, and, they as pittying me,\\nKnowing thy heart torment me with disdaine,\\nHaue put on black, and louing mourners bee.\\nLooking with pretty ruth vpon my paine.\\nAnd truly not the morning Sun of Heauen\\nBetter becomes the gray cheeks of th Eaft,\\nNor that full Starre that vshers in the Eauen\\nDoth halfe that glory to the sober West\\nAs those two morning eyes become thy face\\nO let it then as well beseeme thy heart\\nTo mourne for me since mourning doth thee grace.\\nAnd sute thy pitty like in euery part.\\nThen will I sweare beauty her selfe is blacke,\\nAnd all they soule that thy complexion lacke.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0277.jp2"}, "278": {"fulltext": "264 A New Study of\\n70. 24.\\nMine eye hath play d the painter and hath steeld,\\nThy beauties forme in table of my heart,\\nMy body is the frame wherein ti s held,\\nAnd perspectiue it is best Painters art.\\nFor through the Painter must you see his skill,\\nTo finde where your true Image pictur d lies,\\nWhich in my bosomes shop is hanging stil,\\nThat hath his windowes glazed with thine eyes\\nNow see what good-turnes eyes for eies haue done.\\nMine eyes haue drawne thy shape, and thine for me\\nAre windowes to my brest, where-through the Sun\\nDelights to peepe, to gaze therein on thee\\nYet eyes this cunning want to grace their art\\nThey draw but what they see, know not the hart.\\n71. 141.\\nIN faith I doe not loue thee with mine eyes.\\nFor they in thee a thousand errors note.\\nBut tis my heart that loues what they dispise.\\nWho in dispight of view is pleasd to dote.\\nNor are mine eares with thy toungs tune delighted,\\nNor tender feeling to base touches prone.\\nNor taste, nor smell, desire to be inuited\\nTo any sensuall feast with thee alone\\nBut my fine wits, nor my fiue sences can\\nDiswade one foolish heart from seruing thee,\\nWho leaues vnswai d the likenesse of a man.\\nThy proud hearts slaue and vassall wretch to be\\nOnely my plague thus farre I count my gaine,\\nThat she that makes me sinne, awards me paine.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0278.jp2"}, "279": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 265\\n72. 140.\\nBE wise as thou art cruell, do not presse\\nMy toung tide patience with too much disdaine\\nLeast sorrow lend me words and words expresse,\\nThe manner of my pittie wanting paine.\\nIf I might teach thee witte better it weare,\\nThough not to loue, yet loue to tell me so,\\nAs testie sick-men when their deaths be neere,\\nNo newes but health from their Phisitions know.\\nFor if I should dispaire I should grow madde,\\nAnd in my madnesse might speake ill of thee,\\nNow this ill wresting world is growne so bad,\\nMadde slanderers by madde eares beleeued be.\\nThat I may not be so, nor thou be lyde, (wide.\\nBeare thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart goe\\n73- 49-\\nCAnst thou O cruell, say I loue thee not.\\nWhen I against my selfe with thee pertake\\nDoe I not thinke on thee when I forgot\\nAm of my selfe, all tirant for thy sake\\nWho hateth thee that I doe call my friend,\\nOn whom froun st thou that I doe faune vpon,\\nNay if thou lowrst on me doe I not spend\\nReuenge vpon my selfe with present mone\\nWhat merrit do I in my selfe respect,\\nThat is so proude thy seruice to dispise,\\nWhen all my best doth worship thy defect.\\nCommanded by the motion of thine eyes.\\nBut loue hate on for now I know thy minde.\\nThose that can see thou lou st, and I am blind.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0279.jp2"}, "280": {"fulltext": "266 A New Study of\\n74. 138-\\nlA/ Hen my loue sweares that she is made of truth,\\nrr I do beleeue her though I know she lyes,\\nThat she might thinke me some vntuterd youth,\\nVnlearned in the worlds false subtilties.\\nThus vainely thinking that she thinkes me young,\\nAlthough she knowes my dayes are past the best,\\nSimply I credit her false speaking tongue,\\nOn both sides thus is simple truth supprest\\nEut wherefore saves she not she is vniust\\nAnd wherefore say not I that I am old\\nO loues best habit is in seeming trust,\\nAnd age in loue, loues not t haue yeares told.\\nTherefore I lye with her, and she with me,\\nAnd in our faults by lyes we flattered be.\\n75. 128.\\nHOw oft when thou my musike musike playst,\\nVpon that blessed wood whose motion sounds\\nWith thy sweet fingers when thou gently swayst,\\nThe wiry concord that mine eare confounds,\\nDo I enuie those lackes that nimble leape.\\nTo kisse the tender inward of thy hand,\\nWhilst my poore lips which should that haruest reape,\\nAt the woods bouldnes by thee blushing stand.\\nTo be so tikled they would change their state,\\nAnd situation with those dancing chips.\\nOre whome their fingers walke with gentle gate.\\nMaking dead wood more blest then lining lips,\\nSince sausie lackes so happy are in this,\\nGiue them their fingers, me thy lips to kisse.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0280.jp2"}, "281": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 267\\n76, 136.\\nIF thy soule check thee that I come so neere,\\nSweare to thy blind soule that I was thy Will,\\nAnd will thy soule knowes is admitted there,\\nThus farre for loue, my loue-sute sweet fullfill.\\nWill, will fulfill the treasure of thy loue,\\nI fill it full with wils, and my will one,\\nIn things of great receit with ease we prooue,\\nAmong a number one is reckon d none.\\nThen in the number let me passe vntold,\\nThough in thy stores account I one must be,\\nFor nothing hold me so it please thee hold.\\nThat nothing me, a some-thing sweet to thee.\\nMake but my name thy loue, and loue that still,\\nAnd then thou louest me for my name is Will.\\n77. 135-\\nWHo euer hath her wish, thou hast thy Will,\\nAnd Will too boote, and Will in ouer-plus,\\nMore then enough am I that vexe thee still,\\nTo thy sweet will making addition thus.\\nWilt thou whose will is large and spatious.\\nNot once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine,\\nShall will in others seeme right gracious.\\nAnd in my will no faire acceptance shine\\nThe sea all water, yet receiues raine still.\\nAnd in aboundance addeth to his store.\\nSo thou beeing rich in Will adde to thy Will,\\nOne will of mine to make thy large Will more.\\nLet no vnkinde, no faire beseechers kill,\\nThinke all but one, and me in that one Will.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0281.jp2"}, "282": {"fulltext": "268 A New Study of\\n78. 142.\\nLOue is my sinne, and thy deare vertue hate,\\nHate of my sinne, grounded on sinfull louing,\\nO but with mine, compare thou thine owne state,\\nAnd thou shalt finde it merrits not reproouing.\\nOr if it do, not from those lips of thine,\\nThat haue prophan d their scarlet ornaments.\\nAnd seald false bonds of loue as oft as mine,\\nRobd others beds reuenues of their rents.\\nBe it lawfull I loue thee as thou lou st those,\\nWhome thine eyes wooe as mine importune thee,\\nRoote pittie in thy heart that when it growes,\\nThy pitty may deserue to pittied bee.\\nIf thou doost seeke to haue what thou doost hide,\\nBy selfe example mai st thou be denide.\\n79- 139-\\nOCall not me to iustifie the wrong.\\nThat thy vnkindnesse layes vpon my heart.\\nWound me not with thine eye but with thy toung,\\nVse power with power, and slay me not by Art,\\nTell me thou lou st else-v/here but in my sight,\\nDeare heart forbeare to glance thine eye aside.\\nWhat needst thou wound with cunning when thy might\\nIs more then my ore-prest defence can bide\\nLet me excuse thee ah my loue well knowes.\\nHer prettie lookes haue beene mine enemies.\\nAnd therefore from my face she turnes my foes.\\nThat they else-where might dart their iniuries\\nYet do not so, but since I am neexe slaine.\\nKill me out-right with lookes, and rid my paine.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0282.jp2"}, "283": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 269\\n80. 61.\\nIs it thy wil thy Image should keepe open\\nMy heauy eielids to the weary night\\nDost thou desire my slumbers should be broken,\\nWhile shadowes like to thee do mocke my sight\\nIs it thy spirit that thou send st from thee\\nSo farre from home into my deeds to prye,\\nTo find out shames and idle houres in me,\\nThe skope and tenure of thy lelousie\\nO no, thy loue though much, is not so great.\\nIt is my loue that keepes mine eie awake,\\nMine owne true loue that doth my rest defeat,\\nTo plaie the watch-man euer for thy sake.\\nFor thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,\\nFrom me farre of, with others all to neere.\\n81. 58.\\nTHat God forbid, that made me first your slaue,\\nI should in thought controule your times of pleasure,\\nOr at your hand th account of houres to craue.\\nBeing your vassail bound to staie your leisure.\\nOh let me suffer (being at your beck)\\nTh imprison d absence of your libertie.\\nAnd patience tame, to sufferance bide each check,\\nWithout accusing you of iniury.\\nBe where you list, your charter is so strong.\\nThat you your selfe may priuiledge your time\\nTo what you will, to you it doth belong,\\nYour selfe to pardon of selfe-doing crime.\\nI am to waite though waiting so be hell.\\nNot blame your pleasure be it ill or well.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0283.jp2"}, "284": {"fulltext": "270 A New Study of\\n82. 143.\\nLOe as a carefull huswife runnes to catch,\\nOne of her fethered creatures broake away,\\nSets downe her babe and makes all swift dispatch\\nIn pursuit of the thing she would haue stay\\nWhilst her neglected child holds her in chace.\\nCries to catch her whose busie care is bent,\\nTo follow that which flies before her face\\nNot prizing her poore infants discontent.\\nSo runst thou after that which flies from thee,\\nWhilst I thy babe chace thee a farre behind.\\nBut if thou catch thy hope turne back to me\\nAnd play the mothers part kisse me, be kind.\\nSo will I pray that thou maist haue thy Will,\\nIf thou turne back and my loude crying still.\\n83. 57.\\nBEing your slaue what should I doe but tend,\\nVpon the houres, and times of your desire\\nI have no precious time at al to spend\\nNor seruices to doe til you require.\\nNor dare I chide the world without end houre.\\nWhilst I (my soueraine) watch the clock for you.\\nNor thinke the bitternesse of absence sowre.\\nWhen you haue bid your seruant once adieue.\\nNor dare I question with my iealious thought.\\nWhere you may be, or your affaires suppose.\\nBut like a sad slaue stay and thinke of nought\\nSaue where you are, how happy you make those.\\nSo true a foole is loue, that in your Will,\\n(Though you doe any thing) he thinkes no ill.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0284.jp2"}, "285": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 271\\n84. 134.\\nSo now I haue confest that he is thine,\\nAnd I my selfe am morgag d to thy will,\\nMy selfe He forfeit, so that other mine,\\nThou wilt restore to be my comfort still\\nBut thou wilt not, nor he will not be free.\\nFor thou art couetous, and he is kinde,\\nHe learnd but suretie-like to write for me,\\nVnder that bond that him as fast doth binde.\\nThe statute of thy beauty thou wilt take,\\nThou vsurer that put st forth all to vse,\\nAnd sue a friend, came debter for my sake,\\nSo him I loose through my vnkinde abuse.\\nHim haue I lost, thou hast both him and me,\\nHe paies the whole, and yet am I not free.\\n85. ^33-\\nBEshrew that heart that makes my heart to groane\\nFor that deepe wound it giues my friend and me\\nI st not ynough to torture me alone.\\nBut slaue to slauery my sweet st friend must be.\\nMe from my selfe thy cruell eye hath taken,\\nAnd my next selfe thou harder hast ingrossed.\\nOf him, my selfe, and thee I am forsaken,\\nA torment thrice three-fold thus to be crossed\\nPrison my heart in thy Steele bosomes warde.\\nBut then my friends heart let my poore heart bale,\\nWho ere keepes me, let my heart be his garde.\\nThou canst not then vse rigor in my laile.\\nAnd yet thou wilt, for I being pent in thee,\\nPerforce am thine and all that is in me.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0285.jp2"}, "286": {"fulltext": "2 72 A New Study of\\n86. 41.\\nTHose pretty wrongs that liberty commits,\\nWhen I am some-time absent from thy heart,\\nThy beautie, and thy yeares full well befits,\\nFor still temptation followes where thou art.\\nGentle thou art, and therefore to be wonne,\\nBeautious thou art, therefore to be assailed.\\nAnd when a woman woes, what womans sonne.\\nWill sourely leaue her till he haue preuailed.\\nAye me, but yet thou mighst my seate forbeare,\\nAnd chide thy beauty, and thy straying youth.\\nWho lead thee in their ryot euen there\\nWhere thou art forst to breake a two fold truth\\nHers by thy beauty tempting her to thee,\\nThine by thy beautie beeing false to me.\\n87. 40-\\nTAke all my loues, my loue, yea take them all,\\nWhat hast thou then more then thou hadst before\\nNo loue, my loue, that thou maist true loue call.\\nAll mine was thine, before thou hadst this more\\nThen if for my loue, thou my loue receiuest,\\nI cannot blame thee, for my loue thou vsest,\\nBut yet be blam d, if thou this selfe deceauest\\nBy wilfull taste of what thy selfe refusest.\\nI doe forgiue thy robb rie gentle theefe\\nAlthough thou steale thee all my pouerty\\nAnd yet loue knowes it is a greater griefe\\nTo beare loues wrong, then hates knowne iniury,\\nLasciuious grace in whom all il wel showes,\\nKill me with spights yet we must not be foes.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0286.jp2"}, "287": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 273\\n88.\\n42.\\nTHat thou hast her it is not all my griefe,\\nAnd yet it may be said I lou d her deerely,\\nThat she hath thee is of my wayling cheefe,\\nA losse in loue that touches me more neerely.\\nLouing offendors thus I will excuse yee,\\nThou doost loue her, because thou knowst I loue her,\\nAnd for my sake euen so doth she abuse me,\\nSuffring my friend for my sake to approoue her,\\nIf I loose thee, my losse is my loues gaine,\\nAnd loosing her, my friend hath found that losse.\\nBoth finde each other, and I loose both twaine,\\nAnd both for my sake lay on me this crosse,\\nBut here s the ioy, my friend and I are one,\\nSweete flattery, then she loues but me alone.\\n89- 35-\\nNO more bee greeu d at that which thou hast done,\\nRoses haue thornes, and siluer fountaines mud,\\nCloudes and eclipses staine both Moone and Sunne,\\nAnd loathsome canker Hues in sweetest bud.\\nAll men make faults, and euen I in this,\\nAuthorizing thy trespas with compare,\\nMy selfe corrupting saluing thy amisse,\\nExcusing their sins more then their sins are\\nFor to thy sensuall fault I bring in sence.\\nThy aduerse party is thy Aduocate,\\nAnd gainst my selfe a lawfuU plea commence,\\nSuch ciuill war is in my loue and hate,\\nThat I an accessary needs must be,\\nTo that sweet theefe which sourely robs from me.\\niS", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0287.jp2"}, "288": {"fulltext": "2 74 A New Study of\\n90. 151.\\nLOue is too young to know what conscience is,\\nYet who knowes not conscience is borne of loue,\\nThen gentle cheater vrge not my amisse,\\nLeast guilty of my faults thy sweet selfe proue.\\nFor thou betraying me, I doe betray\\nMy nobler part to my grose bodies treason.\\nMy soule doth tell my body that he may,\\nTriumph in loue, flesh stales no farther reason,\\nBut rysing at thy name doth point out thee,\\nAs his triumphant prize, proud of this pride.\\nHe is contented thy poore drudge to be\\nTo stand in thy affaires, fall by thy side.\\nNo want of conscience hold it that I call.\\nHer loue, for whose deare loue I rise and fall.\\n91. 150.\\nOH from what powre hast thou this powrefull might,\\nWith insufficiency my heart to sway,\\nTo make me giue the lie to my true sight.\\nAnd swere that brightnesse doth not grace the day\\nWhence hast thou this becomming of things il.\\nThat in the very refuse of thy deeds,\\nThere is such strength and warrantise of skill,\\nThat in my minde thy worst all best exceeds\\nWho taught thee how to make me loue thee more.\\nThe more I heare and see iust cause of hate.\\nOh though I loue what others doe abhor.\\nWith others thou shouldst not abhor my state.\\nIf thy vnworthinesse raisd loue in me,\\nMore worthy I to be belou d of thee.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0288.jp2"}, "289": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 275\\n92. 147-\\nMY loue is as a feauer longing still,\\nFor that which longer nurseth the disease,\\nFeeding on that which doth preserue the ill,\\nThVncertaine sicklie appetite to please\\nMy reason the Phisition to my loue,\\nAngry that his prescriptions are not kept\\nHath left me, and I desperate now approoue,\\nDesire is death, which Phisick did except.\\nPast cure I am, now Reason is past care.\\nAnd frantick madde with euer-more vnrest.\\nMy thoughts and my discourse as mad mens are,\\nAt randon from the truth vainely exprest.\\nFor I haue sworne thee faire, and thought thee bright,\\nWho art as black as hell, as darke as night.\\n93. 148.\\nOMe what eyes hath loue put in my head.\\nWhich haue no correspondence with true sight.\\nOr if they haue, where is my iudgment fled,\\nThat censures falsely what they see aright\\nIf that be faire whereon my false eyes dote.\\nWhat meanes the world to say it is not so\\nIf it be not, then loue doth well denote,\\nLoues eye is not so true as all mens no.\\nHow can it O how can loues eye be true.\\nThat is so vext with watching and with teares\\nNo maruaile then though I mistake my view,\\nThe sunne it selfe sees not, till heauen cleeres.\\nO cunning loue, with teares thou keepst me blinde.\\nLeast eyes well seeing thy foule faults should finde.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0289.jp2"}, "290": {"fulltext": "276 A New Study of\\n94. 144.\\nTWo loues I haue of comfort and dispaire,\\nWhich like two spirits do sugiest me still,\\nThe better angell is a man right faire\\nThe worser spirit a woman collour d il.\\nTo win me soone to hell my femall euill,\\nTempteth my better angel from my sight,\\nAnd would corrupt my saint to be a diuel\\nWooing his purity with her fowle pride.\\nAnd whether that my angel be turn d finde,\\nSuspect I may yet not directly tell,\\nBut being both from me both to each friend,\\nI gesse one angel in an others hel.\\nYet this shal I nere know but Hue in doubt,\\nTill my bad angel fire my good one out.\\n95. 146.\\nPOore soule the center of my sinfull earth.\\nMy sinfull earth these rebbell powres that thee array,\\nWhy dost thou pine within and suffer dearth\\nPainting thy outward walls so costlie gay\\nWhy so large cost hauing so short a lease,\\nDost thou vpon thy fading mansion spend\\nShall wormes inheritors of this excesse\\nEate vp thy charge is this thy bodies end\\nThen soule Hue thou vpon thy seruants losse.\\nAnd let that pine to aggrauat thy store\\nBuy tearmes diuine in selling houres of drosse\\nWithin be fed, without be rich no more,\\nSo shalt thou feed on death, that feeds on men.\\nAnd death once dead, ther s no more dying then.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0290.jp2"}, "291": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 277\\n96. 95-\\nHOw sweet and louely dost thou make the shame,\\nWhich like a canker in the fragrant Rose,\\nDoth spot the beautie of thy budding name\\nOh in what sweets doest thou thy sinnes inclose\\nThat tongue that tells the story of thy daies,\\n(Making lasciuious comments on thy sport)\\nCannot dispraise, but in a kinde of praise,\\nNaming thy name, blesses an ill report.\\nOh what a mansion haue those vices got,\\nWhich for their habitation chose out thee,\\nWhere beauties vaile doth couer euery blot.\\nAnd all things turnes to faire, that eies can see\\nTake heed (deare heart) of this large priuiledge.\\nThe hardest knife ill vs d doth loose his edge.\\n97. 96-\\nSOme say thy fault is youth, some wantonesse,\\nSome say thy grace is youth and gentle sport,\\nBoth grace and faults are lou d of more and lesse\\nThou makst faults graces, that to thee resort\\nAs on the finger of a throned Queene,\\nThe basest lewell will be well esteem d\\nSo are those errors that in thee are scene.\\nTo truths translated, and for true things deem d.\\nHow many Lambs might the sterne Wolfe betray,\\nIf like a Lambe he could his lookes translate.\\nHow many gazers mighst thou lead away.\\nIf thou wouldst vse the strength of all thy state\\nBut doe not so, I loue thee in such sort.\\nAs thou being mine, mine is thy good report.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0291.jp2"}, "292": {"fulltext": "278 A New Study of\\n98. 120.\\nTHat you were once vnkind be-friends mee now,\\nAnd for that sorrow, which I then didde feele,\\nNeedes must I vnder my transgression bow,\\nVnlesse my Nerues were brasse or hammered Steele.\\nFor if you were by my vnkindnesse shaken\\nAs I by yours, y haue past a hell of Time,\\nAnd I a tyrant haue no leasure taken\\nTo waigh how once I suffered in your crime,\\nO that our night of wo might haue remembred\\nMy deepest sence, how hard true sorrow hits,\\nAnd soone to you, as you to me then tendred\\nThe humble salue, which wounded bosomes fits\\nBut that your trespasse now becomes a fee.\\nMine ransoms yours, and yours must ransome mee.\\n99- 152-\\nIN louing thee thou know st I am forsworne,\\nBut thou art twice forsworne to me loue swearing,\\nIn act thy bed-vow broake and new faith torne,\\nIn vowing new hate after new loue bearing\\nBut why of tAvo othes breach doe I accuse thee.\\nWhen I breake twenty I am periur d most,\\nFor all my vowes are othes but to misuse thee\\nAnd all my honest faith in thee is lost.\\nFor I haue sworne deepe othes of thy deepe kindnesse\\nOthes of thy loue, thy truth, thy constancie.\\nAnd to inlighten thee gaue eyes to blindnesse,\\nOr made them swere against the thing they see.\\nFor I haue sworne thee faire more periurde eye.\\nTo swere against the truth so foule a lie.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0292.jp2"}, "293": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 279\\n100. 87.\\nFArewell thou art too deare for my possessing,\\nAnd like enough thou knowst thy estimate,\\nThe Charter of thy worth giues thee releasing\\nMy bonds in thee are all determinate.\\nFor how do I hold thee but by thy granting,\\nAnd for that ritches where is my deseruing?\\nThe cause of this faire guift in me is wanting,\\nAnd so my pattent back againe is sweruing.\\nThy selfe thou gau st, thy owne worth then not knowing,\\nOr mee to whom thou gau st it, else mistaking.\\nSo thy great guift vpon misprision growing,\\nComes home againe, on better iudgement making.\\nThus haue I had thee as a dreame doth flatter.\\nIn sleepe a King, but waking no such matter.\\nloi. 109.\\nONeuer say that I was false of heart,\\nThough absence seem d my flame to quallifie.\\nAs easie might I from my selfe depart.\\nAs from my soule which in thy brest doth lye\\nThat is my home of loue, if I haue rang d,\\nLike him that trauels I returne againe,\\nlust to the time, not with the time exchang d,\\nSo that my selfe bring water for my staine,\\nNeuer beleeue though in my nature raign d.\\nAll frailties that besiege all kindes of blood.\\nThat it could so preposterouslie be stain d.\\nTo leaue for nothing all thy summe of good\\nFor nothing this wide Vniuerse I call,\\nSaue thou my Rose, in it thou art my all.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0293.jp2"}, "294": {"fulltext": "28o A New Study of\\nI02. 119.\\nWHat potions haue I drunke of Syren teares\\nDistil d from Lymbecks foule as hell within,\\nApplying feares to hopes, and hopes to feares,\\nStill loosing when I saw my selfe to win\\nWhat wretched errors hath my heart committed,\\nWhilst it hath thought it selfe so blessed neuer\\nHow haue mine eies out of their Spheares bene fitted\\nIn the distraction of this madding feuer\\nO benefit of ill, now I find true\\nThat better is, by euil still made better.\\nAnd ruin d loue when it is built anew\\nGrowes fairer then at first, more strong, far greater.\\nSo I returne rebukt to my content.\\nAnd gaine by ills thrise more then I haue spent.\\n103. 129.\\nTH expence of Spirit in a waste of shame\\nIs lust in action, and till action, lust\\nIs periurd, murdrous, blouddy full of blame,\\n,---Sauage, extreame, rude, cruell, not to trust,\\nInioyd no sooner but dispised straight,\\nPast reason hunted, and no sooner had\\nPast reason hated as a swollowed bayt,\\nOn purpose layd to make the taker mad.\\n./Made In pursut and in possession so.\\nHad, hauing, and in quest, to haue extreame,\\nA blisse in proofe and proud and very wo,\\nBefore a ioy proposd behind a dreame.\\nAll this the world well knowes yet none knowes well,\\nTo shun the heauen that leads men to this hell.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0294.jp2"}, "295": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 281\\nVI. THE poet s communion WITH THE HIGHER\\nMUSE.\\n104. 38.\\nHOw can my Muse want subiect to inuent\\nWhile thou dost breath that poor st into my verse,\\nThine owne sweet argument, to excellent,\\nFor euery vulgar paper to rehearse\\nOh giue thy selfe the thankes if ought in me.\\nWorthy perusal stand against thy sight,\\nFor who s so dumbe that cannot write to thee,\\nWhen thou thy selfe dost giue inuention light\\nBe thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth\\nThen those old nine which rimers inuocate.\\nAnd he that call on thee, let him bring forth\\nEternal numbers to out-liue long date.\\nIf my slight Muse doe please these curious daies,\\nThe paine be mine, but thine shal be the praise.\\n105- 43.\\nWHen most I winke then doe mine eyes best see,\\nFor all the day they view things vnrespected.\\nBut when I sleepe, in dreames they looke on thee.\\nAnd darkely bright, are bright in darke directed.\\nThen thou whose shaddow shaddowes doth make bright.\\nHow would thy shadowes forme, forme happy show.\\nTo the cleere day with thy much cleerer light.\\nWhen to vn-seeing eyes thy shade shines so\\nHow would (I say) mine eyes be blessed made,\\nBy looking on thee in the lining day\\nWhen in dead night their faire imperfect shade.\\nThrough heauy sleepe on sightlesse eyes doth stay\\nAll dayes are nights to see till I see thee.\\nAnd nights bright daies when dreams do shew thee me.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0295.jp2"}, "296": {"fulltext": "282 A New Study of\\n106.\\n3.\\nSince I left you, mine eye is in my minde,\\nAnd that which gouernes me to goe about,\\nDoth part his function, and is partly blind,\\nSeemes seeing, but effectually is out\\nFor it no forme deliuers to the heart\\nOf bird, of flowre, or shape which it doth lack,\\nOf his quick obiects hath the minde no part.\\nNor his owne vision houlds what it doth catch\\nFor if it see the rud st or gentlest sight.\\nThe most sweet-fauor or deformedst creature.\\nThe mountaine, or the sea, the day, or night\\nThe Croe, or Doue, it shapes them to your feature.\\nIncapable of more repleat, with you.\\nMy most true minde thus maketh mine vntrue.\\n107. 114.\\nOR whether doth my minde being crown d with you\\nDrinke vp the monarks plague this flattery\\nOr whether shall I say mine eie saith true.\\nAnd that your loue taught it this Alcumie\\nTo make of monsters, and things indigest,\\nSuch cherubines as your sweet selfe resemble,\\nCreating euery bad a perfect best\\nAs fast as obiects to his beames assemble\\nOh tis the first, tis flatry in my seeing.\\nAnd my great minde most kingly drinkes it vp.\\nMine eie well knowes what with his gust is greeing,\\nAnd to his pallat doth prepare the cup.\\nIf it be poison d, tis the lesser sinne.\\nThat mine eye loues it and doth first beginne.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0296.jp2"}, "297": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 283\\n108. 53.\\nWHhat is your substance, whereof are you made,\\nThat millions of strange shaddowes on you tend\\nSince euery one, hath euery one, one shade,\\nAnd you but one, can euery shaddow lend\\nDescribe Adonis and the counterfet.\\nIs poorely immitated after you.\\nOn H ellens cheeke all art of beautie set,\\nAnd you in Grecian tires are painted new\\nSpeake of the spring, and foyzon of the yeare,\\nThe one doth shaddow of your beautie show,\\nThe other as your bountie doth appeare.\\nAnd you in euery blessed shape we know.\\nIn all externall grace you haue some part.\\nBut you like none, none you for constant heart.\\n109. 20.\\nAWomans face with natures owne hand painted,\\nHaste thou the Master Mistris of my passion,\\nA womans gentle hart but not acquainted\\nWith shifting change as is false womens fashion,\\nAn eye more bright then theirs, lesse false in rowling\\nGilding the obiect where-vpon it gazeth,\\nA man in hew all Hews in his controwling.\\nWhich steales mens eyes and womens soules amaseth,\\nAnd for a woman wert thou first created,\\nTill nature as she wrought thee fell a dotinge.\\nAnd by addition me of thee defeated.\\nBy adding one thing to my purpose nothing.\\nBut since she prickt thee out for womens pleasure.\\nMine be thy loue and thy loues vse their treasure.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0297.jp2"}, "298": {"fulltext": "284 A New Study of\\nno. io6.\\nWHen in the Chronicle of wasted time,\\nI see discriptions of the fairest wights,\\nAnd beautie making beautifull old rime.\\nIn praise of Ladies dead, and lonely Knights,\\nThen in the blazon of sweet beauties best.\\nOf hand, of foote, of lip, of eye, of brow,\\nI see their antique Pen would haue exprest\\nEuen such a beauty as you maister now.\\nSo all their praises are but prophesies\\nOf this our time, all you prefiguring.\\nAnd for they look d but with deuining eyes,\\nThey had not still enough your worth to sing\\nFor we which now behold these present dayes,\\nHaue eyes to wonder, but lack toungs to praise.\\nIII. 59-\\nIF their bee nothing new, but that which is,\\nHath beene before, how are our braines beguild,\\nWhich laboring for inuention beare amisse\\nThe second burthen of a former child\\nOh that record could with a back-ward looke,\\nEuen of fiue hundreth courses of the Sunne,\\nShow me your image in some antique booke,\\nSince minde at first in carrecter was done.\\nThat I might see what the old world could say.\\nTo this composed wonder of your frame.\\nWhether we are mended, or where better they.\\nOr whether reuolution be the same.\\nOh sure I am the wits of former daies,\\nTo subiects worse haue giuen admiring praise.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0298.jp2"}, "299": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 285\\n112. 75.\\nSo are you to my thoughts as food to life,\\nOr as sweet season d shewers are to the ground\\nAnd for the peace of you I hold such strife,\\nAs twixt a miser and his wealth is found.\\nNow proud as an inioyer, and anon\\nDoubting the filching age will steale his treasure,\\nNow counting best to be with you alone.\\nThen betterd that the world may see my pleasure,\\nSome-time all ful with feasting on your sight.\\nAnd by and by cleane starued for a looke.\\nPossessing or pursuing no delight\\nSaue what is had, or must from you be tooke.\\nThus do I pine and surfet day by day,\\nOr gluttoning on all, or all away.\\n113. 64.\\nWHen I haue seene by times fell hand defaced\\nThe rich proud cost of outworne buried age,\\nWhen sometime loftie towers I see downe rased.\\nAnd brasse eternall slaue to mortall rage.\\nWhen I haue seene the hungry Ocean gaine\\nAduantage on the Kingdome of the shoare.\\nAnd the firme soile win of the watry maine,\\nIncreasing store with losse, and losse with store.\\nWhen I haue seene such interchange of state.\\nOr state it selfe confounded, to decay,\\nRuine hath taught me thus to ruminate\\nThat Time will come and take my loue away.\\nThis thought is as a death which cannot choose\\nBut weepe to haue, that which it feares to loose.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0299.jp2"}, "300": {"fulltext": "286 A New Study of\\n114. 65.\\nSince brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundlesse sea,\\nBut sad mortallity ore-swaies their power.\\nHow with this rage shall beautie hold a plea.\\nWhose action is no stronger then a flower?\\nO how shall summers hunny breath hold out,\\nAgainst the wrackfull siedge of battring dayes,\\nWhen rocks impregnable are not so stoute,\\nNor gates of Steele so strong but time decayes\\nO fearefull meditation, where alack.\\nShall times best lewell from times chest lie hid\\nOr what strong hand can hold his swift foote back,\\nOr who his spoile or beautie can forbid\\nO none, vnlesse this miracle haue might,\\nThat in black inck my loue may still shine bright.\\n115. 60.\\nLike as the waues make towards the pibled shore,\\nSo do our minuites hasten to their end,\\nEach changing place tvith that which goes before,\\nIn sequent toile all forwards do contend.\\nNatiuity once in the maine of light.\\nCrawies to maturity, wherewith being crown d,\\nCrooked eclipses gainst his glory fight,\\nAnd time that gaue, doth now his gift confound.\\nTime doth transfixe the florish set on youth,\\nAnd delues the paralels in beauties brow,\\nFeedes on the rarities of natures truth.\\nAnd nothing stands but for his sieth to mow.\\nAnd yet to times in hope, my verse shall stand\\nPraising thy worth, dispight his cruell hand.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0300.jp2"}, "301": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 287\\n116. 62.\\nSInne of selfe-loue possesseth al mine eie,\\nAnd all my soule, and al my euery part\\nAnd for this sinne there is no remedie,\\nIt is so grounded inward in my heart.\\nMe thinkes no face so gratious is as mine,\\nNo shape so true, no truth of such account,\\nAn for my selfe mine owne worth do define,\\nAs I all other in all worths surmount.\\nBut when my glasse shewes me my selfe indeed\\nSeated and chopt with tand antiquitie,\\nMine owne selfe loue quite contrary I read\\nSelfe, so selfe louing were iniquity,\\nT is thee (my selfe) that for my selfe I praise,\\nPainting my age with beauty of thy dales.\\n117. 103-\\nA Lack what pouerty my Muse brings forth.\\nThat hauing such a skope to show her pride,\\nThe argument all bare is of more worth\\nThen when it hath my added praise beside.\\nOh blame me not if I no more can write\\nLooke in your glasse and there appeares a face.\\nThat ouer-goes my blunt inuention quite.\\nDulling my lines, and doing me disgrace.\\nWere it not sinfull then striuing to mend.\\nTo marre the subiect that before was well.\\nFor to no other passe my verses tend,\\nThen of your graces and your gifts to tell.\\nAnd more, much more then in my verse can fit.\\nYour owne glasse showes you when you looke in it.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0301.jp2"}, "302": {"fulltext": "288 A New Study of\\n8. 39.\\nOH how thy worth with manners may I singe.\\nWhen thou art all the better part of me\\nWhat can mine owne praise to mine owne selfe bring\\nAnd what is t but mine owne when I praise thee,\\nEuen for this, let vs deuided Hue,\\nAnd our deare loue loose name of single one\\nThat by this seperation I may giue\\nThat due to thee which thou deseru st alone\\nOh absence what a torment wouldst thou proue.\\nWere it not thy soure leisure gaue sweet leaue.\\nTo entertaine the time with thoughts of loue,\\nWhich time and thoughts so sweetly dost deceiue.\\nAnd that thou teachest how to make one twaine,\\nBy praising him here who doth hence remaine.\\n9 37-\\nAS a decrepit father takes delight,\\nTo see his actiue childe do deeds of youth,\\nSo I, made lame by Fortunes dearest spight\\nTake all my comfort of thy worth and truth.\\nFor whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit,\\nOr any of these all, or all, or more\\nIntitled in their parts, do crowned sit,\\nI make my loue ingrafted to this store\\nSo then I am not lame, poore, not dispis d,\\nWhilst that this shadow doth such substance giue,\\nThat I in thy abundance am suffic d,\\nAnd by a part of all thy glory Hue\\nLooice what is best, that best I wish in thee,\\nThis wish I haue, then ten times happy me.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0302.jp2"}, "303": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 289\\n120. 36.\\nLEt me confesse that we two must be twaine,\\nAlthough our vndeuided loues are one\\nSo shall those blots that do with me remaine,\\nWithout thy helpe, by me be borne alone.\\nIn our two loues there is but one respect,\\nThough in our Hues a seperable spight,\\nWhich though it alter not loues sole effect,\\nYet doth it steale sweet houres from loues delight,\\nI may not euer-more acknowledge thee.\\nLeast my bewailed guilt should do thee shame,\\nNor thou with publike kindnesse honour me,\\nVnlesse thou take that honour from thy name\\nBut doe not so, I loue thee in such sort,\\nAs thou being mine, mine is thy good report.\\n121. 76.\\nWHy is my verse so barren of new pride\\nSo far from variation or quicke change\\nWhy with the time do I not glance aside\\nTo new found methods, and to compounds strange\\nWhy write I still all one, euer the same.\\nAnd keepe inuention in a noted weed.\\nThat euery word doth almost fel my name,\\nShewing their birth, and where they did proceed\\nO know sweet loue I alwaies write of you,\\nAnd you and loue are still my argument\\nSo all my best is dressing old words new,\\nSpending againe what is already spent\\nFor as the Sun is daily new and old.\\nSo is my loue still telling what is told.\\n19", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0303.jp2"}, "304": {"fulltext": "290 A New Study of\\n122. 78.\\nSo oft haue I inuok d thee for my Muse,\\nAnd found such faire assistance in my verse,\\nAs euery Alien pen hath got my vse,\\nAnd vnder thee their poesie disperse.\\nThine eyes, that taught the dumbe on high to sing,\\nAnd heauie ignorance aloft to flie,\\nHaue added fethers to the learneds wing,\\nAnd giuen grace a double Maiestie.\\nYet be most proud of that which I compile,\\nWhose influence is thine, and borne of thee,\\nIn others workes thou doost but mend the stile.\\nAnd Arts with thy sweete graces graced be.\\nBut thou art all my art, and doost aduance\\nAs high as learning, my rude ignorance.\\n123. 79.\\n7/jf Hilst I alone did call vpon thy ayde,\\nyy My verse alone had all thy gentle grace,\\nBut now my gracious numbers are decayde,\\nAnd my sick Muse doth giue an other place.\\nI grant (sweet loue) thy louely argument\\nDeserues the trauaile of a worthier pen,\\nYet what of thee thy Poet doth inuent,\\nHe robs thee of, and payes it thee againe.\\nHe lends thee vertue, and he stole that word,\\nFrom thy behauiour, beautie doth he giue\\nAnd found it in thy cheeke he can affoord\\nNo praise to thee, but what in thee doth Hue.\\nThen thanke him not for that which he doth say.\\nSince what he owes thee, thou thy selfe doost pay.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0304.jp2"}, "305": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 291\\n124. 83.\\nI Grant thou wert not married to my Muse,\\nAnd therefore maiest without attaint ore-looke\\nThe dedicated words which writers vse\\nOf their faire subiect, blessing eury booke.\\nThou art as faire in knowledge as in hew,\\nFinding thy worth a limmit past my praise,\\nAnd therefore art inforc d to seeke anew,\\nSome fresher stampe of the time bettering dayes,\\nAnd do so loue, yet when they haue deuisde,\\nWhat strained touches Rhethorick can lend.\\nThou truly faire, wert truly simpathizde,\\nIn true plaine words, by thy true telling friend.\\nAnd their grosse painting might be better vs d.\\nWhere cheekes need blood, in thee it is abus d.\\n125. 83.\\nINeuer saw that you did painting need,\\nAnd therefore to your faire no painting set,\\nI found (or thought I found) you did exceed,\\nThe barren tender of a Poets debt\\nAnd therefore haue I slept in your report,\\nThat you your selfe being extant well might show,\\nHow farre a moderne quill doth come to short.\\nSpeaking of worth, what worth in you doth grow,\\nThis silence for my sinne you did impute,\\nWhich shall be most my glory being dombe.\\nFor I impaire not beautie being mute.\\nWhen others would giue life, and bring a tombe.\\nThere Hues more life in one of your faire eyes.\\nThen both your Poets can in praise deuise.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0305.jp2"}, "306": {"fulltext": "292 A New Study of\\n126. 84.\\nWHO is it that sayes most, which can say more,\\nThen this rich praise, that you alone, are you,\\nIn whose confine immured is the store,\\nWhich should example where your equall grew,\\nLeane penurie within that Pen doth dwell,\\nThat to his subiect lends not some small glory,\\nBut he that writes of you, if he can tell.\\nThat you are you, so dignifies his story.\\nLet him but coppy what in you is writ.\\nNot making worse what nature made so cleere.\\nAnd such a counter-part shall fame his wit.\\nMaking his stile admired euery where.\\nYou to your beautious blessings adde a curse.\\nBeing fond on praise, which makes your praises worse.\\n127. 85.\\nMY toung-tide Muse in manners holds her still.\\nWhile comments of your praise richly compil d\\nReserne their Character with goulden quill.\\nAnd precious phrase by all the Muses fil d,\\nI thinke good thoughts, whilst other write good wordes.\\nAnd like vnlettered clarke still crie Amen,\\nTo euery Himne that able spirit affords.\\nIn polisht for ne of well refined pen.\\nHearing you praisd, I say tis so, tis true.\\nAnd to the most of praise adde some-thing more,\\nBut that is in my thought, whose loue to you\\n(Though words come hind-most) holds his ranke before,\\nThen others, for the breath of words respect.\\nMe for my dombe thoughts, speaking in effect.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0306.jp2"}, "307": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 293\\n128. 80.\\nOHow I faint when I of you do write,\\nKnowing a better spirit doth vse your name,\\nAnd in the praise thereof spends all his might,\\nTo make me toung-tide speaking of your fame.\\nBut since your worth (wide as the Ocean is)\\nThe humble as the proudest saile doth beare.\\nMy sawsie barke (inferior farre to his)\\nOn your broad maine doth wilfully appeare.\\nYour shallowest helpe will hold me vp a floate,\\nWhilst he vpon your soundlesse deepe doth ride,\\nOr (being wrackt) I am a worthlesse bote.\\nHe of tall building, and of goodly pride.\\nThen If he thriue and I be cast away,\\nThe worst was this, my loue was my decay.\\n129.\\nWAs it the proud full saile of his great verse.\\nBound for the prize of (all to precious) you.\\nThat did my ripe thoughts in my braine inhearce,\\nMaking their tombe the wombe wherein they grew\\nWas it his spirit, by spirits taught to write,\\nAboue a mortall pitch, that struck me dead?\\nNo, neither he, nor his compiers by night\\nGiuing him ayde, my verse astonished.\\nHe nor that affable familiar ghost\\nWhich nightly gulls him with intelligence,\\nAs victors of my silence cannot boast,\\nI was not sick of any feare from thence.\\nBut when your countinance fild vp his line.\\nThen lackt I matter, that infeebled mine.\\n86.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0307.jp2"}, "308": {"fulltext": "294 A New Study of\\n130- 49-\\nA Gainst that time (if euer that time come)\\nWhen I shall see thee frown e on my defects,\\nWhen as thy loue hath cast his vtmost summe,\\nCauld to that audite by aduis d respects,\\nAgainst that time when thou shalt strangely passe,\\nAnd scarcely greete me with that sunne thine eye.\\nWhen loue conuerted from the thing it was\\nShall reasons finde of setled grauitie.\\nAgainst that time do I insconce me here\\nWithin the knowledge of mine owne desart,\\nAnd this my hand, against my selfe vpreare,\\nTo guard the lawfull reasons on thy part,\\nTo leaue poore me, thou hast the strength of lawes.\\nSince why to loue, I can alledge no cause.\\n131. 88.\\nWHen thou shalt be dispode to set me light,\\nAnd place my merrit in the eie of skorne,\\nVpon thy side, against my selfe ile fight.\\nAnd proue thee virtuous, though thou art forsworne\\nWith mine owne weakenesse being best acquainted,\\nVpon thy part I can set downe a story\\nOf faults conceald, wherein I am attainted\\nThat thou in loosing me, shall win much glory\\nAnd I by this wil be a gainer too.\\nFor bending all my louing thoughts on thee,\\nThe injuries that to my selfe I doe,\\nDoing thee vantage, duble vantage me,\\nSuch is my loue, to thee I so belong.\\nThat for thy right, my selfe will beare all wrong.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0308.jp2"}, "309": {"fulltext": "s\\nThe Sonnets of Shakespeare 295\\n132. 89.\\nAy that thou didst forsake mee for some fait,\\n_ And I will comment upon that offence,\\nSpeake of my lamenesse, and I straight will halt\\nAgainst thy reasons making no defence.\\nThou canst not (loue) disgrace me halfe so ill.\\nTo set a forme vpon desired change,\\nAs ile my selfe disgrace, knowing thy wil,\\nI will acquaintance strangle and looke strange\\nBe absent from thy walkes and in my tongue.\\nThy sweet beloued name no more shall dwell.\\nLeast I (too much prophane) should do it wronge\\nAnd haphe of our old acquamtance tell.\\nFor thee, against my selfe ile vow debate,\\nFor I must nere loue him whom thou dost hate.\\n133. 9\u00c2\u00b0-\\nTHen hate me when thou wilt, if euer, now.\\nNow while the world is bent my deeds to crosse,\\nloyne with the spight of fortune, make me bow.\\nAnd doe not drop in for an after losse\\nAh doe not, when my heart hath scapte this sorrow,\\nCome in the rereward of a conquerd woe,\\nGiue not a windy night a rainie morrow,\\nTo linger out a purposd ouer-throw.\\nIf thou wilt leaue, me, do not leaue me last, _\\nWhen other pettie grief es haue done their spight.\\nBut in the onset come, so stall I taste\\nAt first the very worst of fortunes might.\\nAnd other straines of woe, which now seeme woe,\\nCompar d with losse of thee, will not seeme so.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0309.jp2"}, "310": {"fulltext": "296 A New Study of\\n134. 91-\\nSOme glory in their birth, some in their skill,\\nSome in their wealth, some in their bodies force,\\nSome in their garments though new-fangled ill\\nSome in their Hawkes and Hounds, some in their Horse.\\nAnd euery humor hath his adiunct pleasure,\\nWherein it findes a ioy aboue the rest.\\nBut these perticulers are not my measure,\\nAll these I better in one generall best.\\nThy loue is bitter then high birth to me.\\nRicher then wealth, prouder then garments cost,\\nOf more delight then Hawkes or Horses bee\\nAnd hauing thee, of all mens pride I boast.\\nWretched in this alone, that thou maist take.\\nAll this away, and me most wretched make.\\n135- 92.\\nBVt doe thy worst to steale thy selfe away.\\nFor tearme of life thou are assured mine.\\nAnd life no longer then thy loue will stay.\\nFor it depends vpon that loue of thine.\\nThen need I not to feare the worst of wrongs.\\nWhen in the least of them my life hath end,\\nI see, a better state to me belongs\\nThen that, which on thy humor doth depend.\\nThou canst not vex me with inconstant minde,\\nSince that my life on thy reuolt doth lie.\\nOh what a happy title do I finde,\\nHappy to haue thy loue, happy to die\\nBut whats so blessed faire that feares no blot,\\nThou maist be falce, and yet I know it not.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0310.jp2"}, "311": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 297\\n136. 93-\\nSo shall I Hue, supposing thou art true,\\nLike a deceiued husband, so loues face,\\nMay still seeme loue to me, though alter d new\\nThy lookes with me, thy heart in other place.\\nFor their can Hue no hatred in thine eye.\\nTherefore in that I cannot know thy change.\\nIn manies lookes, the falce hearts history\\nIs writ in moods and frounes and wrinckles strange,\\nBut heauen in thy creation did decree.\\nThat in thy face sweet loue should euer dwell,\\nWhat ere thy thoughts, or thy hearts workings be.\\nThy lookes should nothing thence, but sweetnesse tell.\\nHow like Eaues apple doth thy beauty grow,\\nIf thy sweet vertue answere not thy show.\\n137- 33-\\nFVll many a glorious morning haue I seene,\\nFlatter the mountaine tops with soueraine eie.\\nKissing with golden face the meddowes greene\\nGuilding pale streames with heauenly alcumy\\nAnon permit the basest cloudes to ride.\\nWith ougly rack on his celestiall face,\\nAnd from the for-lorne world his visage hide\\nStealing vnseene to west with this disgrace\\nEuen so my Sunne one early morne did shine,\\nWith all triumphant splendor on my brow,\\nBut out alack, he was but one houre mine.\\nThe region cloude hath mask d him from me now.\\nYet him for this, my loue no whit disdaineth.\\nSuns of the world may staine, whe heauens sun stainteh.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0311.jp2"}, "312": {"fulltext": "298 A New Study of\\n138- 34.\\nWHy didst thou promise such a beautious day,\\nAnd make me trauaile forth without my cloake,\\nTo let bace cloudes ore-take me in my way,\\nHiding thy brau ry in their rotten smoke.\\nTis not enough that through the cloude thou breake,\\nTo dry the raine on my storme-beaten face.\\nFor no man well of such a salue can speake,\\nThat heales the wound, and cures not the disgrace\\nNor can thy shame giue phisicke to my griefe.\\nThough thou repent, yet I haue still the losse,\\nTh offenders sorrow lends but weake reliefe\\nTo him that beares the strong offenses losse.\\nAh but those teares are pearle which thy loue sheeds,\\nAnd they are ritch, and ransome all ill deeds.\\n139. 5^-\\nSweet loue renew thy force, be it not said\\nThy edge should blunter be then apetite,\\nWhich but too daie by feeding is alaied,\\nTo morrow sharpned in his former might.\\nSo loue be thou, although too daie thou fill\\nThy hungrie eies, euen till they winck with fulnesse,\\nToo morrow see againe, and doe not kill\\nThe spirit of Loue, with a perpetual dulnesse\\nLet this sad Intrim like the Ocean be\\nWhich parts the shore, where two contracted new,\\nCome daily to the banckes, that when they see\\nReturne of loue, more blest may be the view.\\nAs cal it Winter, which being ful of care,\\nMakes Somers welcome, thrice more wish d, more rare.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0312.jp2"}, "313": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 299\\n140. 100.\\nWHere art thou Muse that thou forgetst so long,\\nTo speake of that which giues thee all thy might\\nSpendst thou thy furie on some worthlesse songe,\\nDarkning thy powre to lend base subiects light.\\nReturne forgetfull Muse, and straight redeeme,\\nIn gentle numbers time so idely spent,\\nSing to the eare that doth thy laies esteeme,\\nAnd giues thy pen both skill and argument.\\nRise resty Muse, my loues sweet face suruay,\\nIf time haue any wrincle grauen there,\\nIf any, be a Satire to decay,\\nAnd make times spoiles dispised euery where.\\nGiue my loue fame faster then time wasts life,\\nSo thou preuenst his sieth, and crooked knife.\\n141. lOI.\\nOH truant Muse what shalbe thy amends,\\nFor thy neglect of truth in beauty di d\\nBoth truth and beauty on my loue depends\\nSo dost thou too, and therein dignifi d\\nMake answere Muse, wilt thou not haply saie,\\nTruth needs no collour with his collour fixt,\\nBeautie no pensell, beauties truth to lay\\nBut best is best, if neuer intermixt.\\nBecause he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb\\nExcuse not silence so, for t lies in thee,\\nTo make him much out-liue a gilded tombe\\nAnd to be praisd of ages yet to be.\\nThen do thy office Muse, I teach thee how,\\nTo make him seeme long hence, as he showes now.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0313.jp2"}, "314": {"fulltext": "300 A New Study of\\n142. 107.\\nMY loue is strengthned though more weake in seeming\\nI loue not lesse, thogh lesse the show appeare,\\nThat loue is marchandiz d, whose ritch esteeming,\\nThe owners tongue doth publish euery where.\\nOur loue was new, and then but in the spring,\\nWhen I was wont to greet it with my laies.\\nAs Philomell in summers front doth singe.\\nAnd stops his pipe in growth of riper daies\\nNot that the summer is lesse pleasant now\\nThen when her mournefull himns did hush the night,\\nBut that wild musick burthens euery bow,\\nAnd sweets growne common loose their deare delight.\\nTherefore like her, I some-time hold my tongue\\nBecause I would not dull you with my songe.\\n143. .110.\\nA Las tis true, I haue gone here and there.\\nAnd make my selfe a motley to the view,\\nGor d mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most deare,\\nMade old offences of affections new.\\nMost true it is, that I haue lookt on truth\\nAsconce and strangely But by all aboue,\\nThese blenches gaue my heart an other j ^outh.\\nAnd worse essaies prou d thee my best of loue,\\nNow all is done, haue what shall haue no end.\\nMine appetite I neuermore will grin de\\nOn newer proofe, to trie an older friend,\\nA God in loue, to whom I am confin d.\\nThen giue me welcome, next my heauen the best,\\nEuen to thy pure and most most louing brest.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0314.jp2"}, "315": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 301\\n144. III.\\nOFor my sake doe you wish fortune chide,\\nThe guiltie goddesse of my harmfull deeds,\\nThat did not better for my life prouide,\\nThen publick meanes which publick manners breeds.\\nThence comes it that my name receiues a brand,\\nAnd almost thence my nature is subdu d\\nTo what it workes in, like the Dyers hand,\\nPitty me then, and wish I were renu de,\\nWhilst like a willing pacient I will drinke,\\nPotions of Eysell gainst my strong infection,\\nNo bitternesse that I will bitter thinke,\\nNor double pennance to correct correction.\\nPittie me then deare friend, and I assure yee,\\nEuen that your pittie is enough to cure mee.\\n145. II\\nYOur loue and pittie doth th* impression fill,\\nWhich vulgar scandall stampt vpon my brow.\\nFor what care I who calls me well or ill,\\nSo you ore-greene my bad, my good alow\\nYou are my All the world, and I must striue.\\nTo know my shames and praises from your tongue,\\nNone else to me, nor I to none aliue,\\nThat my steel d sence or changes right or wrong.\\nIn so profound Abisme I throw all care\\nOf others voyces, that my Adders sence,\\nTo cryttick and to flatterer stopped are\\nMarke how with my neglect I doe dispence.\\nYou are so strongly in my purpose bred,\\nThat all the world besides me thinkes y are dead.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0315.jp2"}, "316": {"fulltext": "302 A New Study of\\n146. 117.\\nAccuse me thus, that I haue scanted all,\\nWherein I should your great deserts repay,\\nForgot vpon your dearest loue to call,\\nWhereto al bonds do tie me day by day,\\nThat I haue frequent binne with vnknown mindes.\\nAnd giuen to time your owne dear purchas d right,\\nThat 1 haue hoysted saile to al the windes\\nWhich should transport me farthest from your sight.\\nBooke both my wiifulnesse and errors downe.\\nAnd on iust proofe surmise, accumilate,\\nBring me within the leuel of your frowne.\\nBut shoote not at me in your wakened hate\\nSince my appeale saies I did striue to prooue\\nThe constancy and virtue of your loue.\\n147. 118,\\nLike as to make our appetites more keene\\nWith eager compounds we our pallat vrge,\\nAs to preuent our malladies vnseene,\\nWe sicken to shun sicknesse when we purge,\\nEuen so being full of your nere cloying sweetnesse,\\nTo bitter fawces did I frame my feeding\\nAnd sicke of wel-fare found a kind of meetnesse,\\nTo be diseas d ere that there was true needing.\\nThus pollicie in loue t anticipate\\nThe ills that were, not grew to faults assured,\\nAnd brought to medicine a healthfull state\\nWhich rancke of goodnesse would by ill be cured.\\nBut thence I learne and find the lesson true,\\nDrugs poyson him that so fell sicke of you.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0316.jp2"}, "317": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 303\\n148. 107.\\nNot mine owne feares, nor the prophetick soule,\\nOf the wide world, dreaming on things to come,\\nCan yet the lease of my true loue controule,\\nSupposde as forfeit to a confin d doome.\\nThe mortall Moone hath her eclipse indur de,\\nAnd the sad Augurs mock their owne presage,\\nIncertenties now crowne them-selues assur de,\\nAnd peace proclaimes Oliues of endlesse age,\\nNow with the drops of this most balmie time,\\nMy loue lookes fresh, and death to me subscribes,\\nSince spight of him lie Hue in this poore rime,\\nWhile he insults ore dull and speachleise tribes.\\nAnd thou in this shalt finde thy monument,\\nWhen tyrants crests and tombs of brasse are spent.\\n149. 108.\\nW Hat s in the braine that Inck may character.\\nWhich hath not figur d to thee my true spirit,\\nWhat s new to speake, what now to register.\\nThat may expresse my loue, or thy deare merit\\nNothing sweet boy, but yet like prayers diuine,\\nI must each day say ore the very same,\\nCounting no old thing old, thou mine, I thine,\\nEuen as when first I hallowed thy faire name.\\nSo that eternall loue in loues fresh case,\\nWaighes not the dust and iniury of age.\\nNor giues to necessary wrinckles place.\\nBut makes antiquitie for aye his page,\\nFinding the first conceit of loue there bred.\\nWhere time and outward forme would shew it dead.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0317.jp2"}, "318": {"fulltext": "304 A New Study of\\n150. 123.\\nNo Time, thou shalt not host that I doe change,\\nThy pyramyds buylt vp with newer might\\nTo me are nothing nouell, nothing strange,\\nThey are but dressings of a former sight\\nOur dates are breefe, and therefor we admire,\\nWhat thou dost foyst vpon vs that is ould,\\nAnd rather make them borne to our desire,\\nThen thinke that we before haue heard them tould\\nThy registers and thee I both defie,\\nNot wondring at the present, nor the past.\\nFor thy records, and what we see doth lye,\\nMade more or les by thy continuall hast\\nThis I doe vow and this shall euer be,\\nI will be true dispight thy syeth and thee.\\n151. 124.\\nYF my deare loue were but the childe of state,\\nIt might for fortunes basterd be vnfathered,\\nAs subiect to times loue, or to times hate.\\nWeeds among weeds, or flowers with flowers gatherd,\\nNo it was buylded far from accident.\\nIt suffers not in smilinge pomp, nor falls\\nVnder the blow of thralled discontent.\\nWhereto th inuiting time our fashion calls\\nIt feares not policy that Heriticke,\\nWhich workes on leases of short numbred howers,\\nBut all alone stands hugely pollitick,\\nThat it nor growes with heat, nor drownes with showres.\\nTo this I witnes call the foles of time.\\nWhich die for goodnes, who haue liu d for crime.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0318.jp2"}, "319": {"fulltext": "The Sonnets of Shakespeare 305\\n152. 125.\\nWEr t ought to me I bore the canopy,\\nWith my extern the outward honoring,\\nOr layd great bases for eternity.\\nWhich proues more short then wast or ruining\\nHaue I not seene dwellers on forme and fauor\\nLose all, and more by paying too much rent\\nFor compound sweet Forgoing simple sauor,\\nPittifull thriuors in their gazing spent.\\nNoe, let me be obsequious in thy heart.\\nAnd take thou my oblacion, poore but free,\\nWhich is not mixt with seconds, knows no art,\\nBut mutuall render onely me for thee.\\nHence, thou subbornd Informer, a trew soule\\nWhen most impeacht, stands least in thy controule.\\n153- loS-\\nLEt not my loue be cal d Idolatrie,\\nNor my beloued as an Idoll show.\\nSince all alike my songs and praises be\\nTo one, of one, still such, and euer so.\\nKinde is m_y loue to day, to morrow kinde,\\nStill constant in a wondrous excellence,\\nTherefore my verse to constancie confin de,\\nOne thing expressing, leaues out difference.\\nFaire, kinde, and true, is all my argument,\\nFaire, kinde and true, varrying to other words,\\nAnd in this change is my inuention spent,\\nThree theams in one, which wondrous scope affords.\\nFaire, kinde, and true, haue often liu d_ alone.\\nWhich three till now, neuer kept seate in one.", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0319.jp2"}, "320": {"fulltext": "3o6 The Sonnets of Shakespeare\\n154. 55.\\nNot marble, nor the guilded monument,\\nOf Princes shall out-liue this powrefull rime.\\nBut you shall shine more bright in these contents\\nThen vnswept stone, besmeer d with sluttish time.\\nWhen wastefull warre shall Statues ouer-turne,\\nAnd broiles roote out the worke of masonry.\\nNor Mars his sword, nor warres quick fire shall burne\\nThe lining record of your memory.\\nGainst death, and all obliuious emnity\\nShall you pace forth, praise shall stil finde roome,\\nEuen in the eyes of all posterity\\nThat weare this world out to the ending doome.\\nSo til the iudgement that your selfe arise,\\nYou liue in this, and dwell in iouers eies.\\n7 8 v^.^.fe", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0320.jp2"}, "321": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0321.jp2"}, "322": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0322.jp2"}, "323": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0323.jp2"}, "324": {"fulltext": "sV\\n:v. a\\\\\\na\\\\^\\nvV\\n,0 O. K", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0324.jp2"}, "325": {"fulltext": "-^y- v\\nOQ\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0J-\\nt_\\n,.v\\n\\\\o N\\nx^\\nK\\n^0\\n-s-..\\n.0^\\nV\\n0^\\n.a\\\\\\n.0^\\nv^\\n-v^^\\nI ..s-^ A\\n^\u00e2\u0096\u00a0^\u00e2\u0096\u00a00", "height": "2750", "width": "1678", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0325.jp2"}, "326": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2929", "width": "1922", "jp2-path": "newstudyofsonnet00godw_0326.jp2"}}