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 ,2019



ISBN978-5-4496-8603-9

     Ridero







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1


    ,            ,  ,   .       But as the riper should bytime decease.

		 1.  .
		From fairest creatures we desire increase,
		That thereby beautys rose might neverdie,
		But as the riper should bytime decease,
		His tender heir might bear his memory:
		But thou, contracted tothine own bright eyes,
		Feedst thy lights flame with self-substantial fuel,
		Making afamine where abundance lies,
		Thyself thy foe, tothy sweet self too cruel.
		Thou that art now the worlds fresh ornament
		And only herald tothe gaudy spring,
		Within thine own bud buriest thy content,
		And, tender churl, makst waste inniggarding:
		Pity the world, or else this gluttonbe,
		Toeat the worlds due, bythe grave and thee.




2


  蠖  젖 forty winters.   .

		 2.  
		When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
		And dig deep trenches inthy beautys field,
		Thy youths proud livery so gazed onnow
		Will be atottered weed ofsmall worth held:
		Then being asked where all thy beauty lies,
		Where all the treasure ofthy lusty days,
		Tosay within thine own deep-sunkeneyes
		Were an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise.
		How much more praise deserved thy beautysuse,
		If thou couldst answer, This fair child ofmine
		Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,
		Proving his beauty bysuccession thine.
		This were tobe new made when thou artold,
		And see thy blood warm when thou feelst itld




3


   .      ,    For where is she so fair whose uneared womb Disdains the tillage ofthy husbandry?.

   ࠖ Thou art thy mothers glass. Ÿ     .   .

		 3.  
		Look inthy glass and tell the face thou viewest,
		Now is the time that face should form another,
		Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
		Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
		For where is she so fair whose unearedwomb
		Disdains the tillage ofthy husbandry?
		Or who is he so fond will be thetomb
		Ofhis self-love tostop posterity?
		Thou art thy mothers glass, and she inthee
		Calls back the lovely April ofher prime;
		So thou through windows ofthine age shaltsee,
		Despite ofwrinkles, this thy golden time.
		But if thou live remembred not tobe,
		Die single, and thine image dies with thee.




4


    젖 Profitless usurer.   .

		 4.  
		Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend
		Upon thyself thy beautys legacy?
		Natures bequest gives nothing, but doth lend,
		And being frank she lends tothose are free:
		Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse
		The bounteous largess given thee togive?
		Profitless usurer, why dost thouuse
		So great asum ofsums, yet canst not live?
		For having traffic with thyself alone,
		Thou ofthyself thy sweet self dost deceive:
		Then how, when Nature calls thee tobe gone,
		What acceptable audit canst thou leave?
		Thy unused beauty must be tombed with thee,
		Which used lives thexecutor tobe.




5


   ࠖ summers distillation    .           蠖 Beautys effect with beauty were bereft, Nor it nor no remembrance what it was.

  .      ,    .

		 5.  
		Those hours that with gentle work did frame
		The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell
		Will play the tyrants tothe very same,
		And that unfair which fairly doth excel;
		For never-resting time leads summeron
		Tohideous winter and confounds him there,
		Sap checked with frost and lusty leaves quite gone,
		Beauty oersnowed and bareness every where:
		Then were not summers distillationleft
		Aliquid prisoner pent inwalls ofglass,
		Beautys effect with beauty were bereft,
		Nor it nor no remembrance what itwas.
		But flowers distilled, though they with winter meet,
		Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet




6


   ࠖ      ,    3.   , . .         , 𻠖 self-willed.            .

		 6.  
		Then let not winters ragged hand deface
		Inthee thy summer ere thou be distilled:
		Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place
		With beautys treasure ere it be self-killed:
		That use is not forbidden usury
		Which happies those that pay the willing loan;
		Thats for thyself tobreed another thee,
		Or ten times happier be it ten forone;
		Ten times thyself were happier than thouart,
		If ten ofthine ten times refigured thee:
		Then what could death do if thou shouldst depart,
		Leaving thee living inposterity?
		Be not self-willed, for thou art much toofair
		Tobe deaths conquest and make worms thineheir




7


    ࠖ ,    So thou, thyself outgoing inthy noon    .       7.    , ..     , ..  25-   .

    2   .      , .. 20  .

  ,       ,       .

		 7.  
		Lo inthe orient when the gracious light
		Lifts up his burning head, each undereye
		Doth homage tohis new-appearing sight,
		Serving with looks his sacred majesty;
		And having climbed the steep-up heavenly hill,
		Resembling strong youth inhis middleage,
		Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,
		Attending on his golden pilgrimage:
		But when from highmost pitch, with wearycar,
		Like feeble age he reeleth from theday,
		The eyes (fore duteous) now convertedare
		From his low tract and look anotherway:
		So thou, thyself outgoing inthy noon,
		Unlooked on diest unless thou get ason.




8


       ࠖ .

		 8.  
		Music tohear, why hearst thou music sadly?
		Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights injoy:
		Why lovst thou that which thou receivst not gladly,
		Or else receivst with pleasure thine annoy?
		If the true concord ofwell-tuned sounds,
		Byunions married, do offend thineear,
		They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
		Insingleness the parts that thou shouldst bear;
		Mark how one string, sweet husband toanother,
		Strikes each ineach bymutual ordering;
		Resembling sire, and child, and happy mother,
		Who all inone, one pleasing note do sing;
		Whose speechless song being many, seemingone,
		Sings this tothee, Thou single wilt prove none.




9


      .  ,  9,       ,      ,         ,  ,  9,      .  ,       ,         .

 , ⠫  But beautys waste hath inthe world an end, And kept unused the user so destroys it:, ⠫ 젖 No love toward others inthat bosom sits  9,     ,          ,   .      ,  , .

      1, 133    .  ,        ,     ,  .

		 9.  
		Is it for fear towet awidowseye
		That thou consumst thyself insingle life?
		Ah! if thou issueless shalt hap todie,
		The world will wail thee like amakeless wife;
		The world will be thy widow and still weep,
		That thou no form ofthee hast left behind,
		When every private widow well may keep,
		Bychildrens eyes, her husbands shape inmind:
		Look what an unthrift inthe world doth spend
		Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoysit,
		But beautys waste hath inthe world anend,
		And kept unused the user so destroysit:
		No love toward others inthat bosomsits
		That on himself such murdrous shame commits.

, , ,  ?  ,    ,      , ,  4042,     ,      .




10


    ⠫ 堖 For thou art so possessd with murdrous hate.

		 10.  
		For shame deny that thou bear-st love toany,
		Who for thyself art so improvident.
		Grant, if thou wilt, thou art beloved ofmany,
		But that thou none lovst is most evident;
		For thou art so possessd with murdrous hate,
		That gainst thyself thou stickst not toconspire,
		Seeking that beauteous roof toruinate
		Which torepair should be thy chief desire:
		Πchange thy thought, that Imay change my mind!
		Shall hate be fairer lodged than gentle love?
		Be as thy presence is, gracious and kind,
		Or tothyself at least kind-hearted prove:
		Make thee another self, for love ofme,
		That beauty still may live inthine or thee.

       ,   .

       ,    ,     117  .

  堖  ,    .    ࠫ   ,    ⠫ .

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11


  ,  .

                ,      .

   11: Ƞ  ,    ,    ,    And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestowst Thou mayst call thine, when thou from youth convertest,   2:   ,       ,   䠖 This were tobe new made when thou art old, And see thy blood warm when thou feelst it ld.

       .

		 11.  
		As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou growst
		Inone ofthine, from that which thou departest,
		And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestowst
		Thou mayst call thine, when thou from youth convertest:
		Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase,
		Without this, folly, age, and cold decay:
		If all were minded so, the times should cease,
		And threescore year would make the world away.
		Let those whom Nature hath not made for store,
		Harsh, featureless, and rude, barrenly perish:
		Look whom she best endowed she gave the more;
		Which bounteous gift thou shouldst inbounty cherish:
		She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby,
		Thou shouldst print more, not let that copydie.




12


  ,   day sunk inhideous night 蠫 蠖 Times scythe.

		 12.  
		When Ido count the clock that tells the time,
		And see the brave day sunk inhideous night,
		When Ibehold the violet past prime,
		And sable curls all silvered oer with white,
		When lofty trees Isee barren ofleaves,
		Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
		And summers green all girded up insheaves
		Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard:
		Then ofthy beauty do Iquestionmake
		That thou among the wastes oftime mustgo,
		Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake,
		And die as fast as they see others grow,
		And nothing gainst Times scythe can make defence
		Save breed tobrave him when he takes thee hence.




13


   my love     .    ?

    .  my love      , 堖 O, none but unthrifts: dear my love.

    .      , ,   my love   .

		 13.  
		Πthat you were your self! but, love, youare
		No longer yours than you yourself here live;
		Against this coming end you should prepare,
		And^your sweet semblance tosome other give:
		So should that beauty which you hold inlease
		Find no determination; then youwere
		Your self again after yourself s decease,
		When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear.
		Who lets so fair ahouse fall todecay,
		Which husbandry inhonour might uphold
		Against the stormy gusts ofwintersday
		And barren rage ofdeaths eternal cold?
		O, none but unthrifts: dear my love, youknow
		You had afather, let your son sayso.

 ,      蠖 You had afather.

,     . ,  1,     .       .

        ,          ,  ,   .    ( )   (15301601),     (15341601)     (15951601)  .   ,       ,  .

    .   112   ࠫ,    ࠫ.

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  ,     13?     ?   112 ,     ,     .    ,    ,  ,    ,     ,    ,     .   ,      .




14


      .   頖 As truth and beauty shall together thrive, ,  .

    ࠫ, ,  ,   . ,   .

		 14.  
		Not from the stars do Imy judgement pluck,
		And yet methinks Ihave astronomy,
		But not totell ofgood or evil luck,
		Ofplagues, ofdearths, or seasons quality;
		Nor can Ifortune tobrief minutes tell,
		Pointing toeach his thunder, rain and wind,
		Or say with princes if it shall gowell
		Byoft predict that Iinheaven find:
		But from thine eyes my knowledge Iderive,
		And, constant stars, inthem Iread suchart
		As truth and beauty shall together thrive
		If from thy self tostore thou wouldst convert:
		Or else ofthee this Iprognosticate,
		Thy end is truths and beautys doom anddate




15


    ,   14.         蠫ꠖ Iingraft you new , ..  .    .  ࠫ       .

		 15.  
		When Iconsider every thing that grows
		Holds inperfection but alittle moment,
		That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows
		Whereon the stars insecret influence comment;
		When Iperceive that men as plants increase,
		Cheered and checked even bythe selfsamesky,
		Vaunt intheir youthful sap, at height decrease,
		And wear their brave state out ofmemory:
		Then the conceit ofthis inconstantstay
		Sets you most rich inyouth before my sight,
		Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay
		Tochange your day ofyouth tosullied night,
		And all inwar with Time for love ofyou,
		As he takes from you, Iingraft younew.




16


     (my barren rhyme)   .   my pupil pen      ,       頖 you live yourself ineyes ofmen.        ,    Togive away yourself keeps yourself still,,  蠫 ,       .

		 16.  
		But wherefore do not you amightierway
		Make war upon this bloody tyrant Time,
		And fortify yourself inyour decay
		With means more blessed than my barren rhyme?
		Now stand you on the top ofhappy hours,
		And many maiden gardens, yet unset,
		With virtuous wish would bear your living flowers,
		Much liker than your painted counterfeit:
		So should the lines oflife that life repair
		Which this times pencil or my pupilpen
		Neither ininward worth nor outwardfair
		Can make you live yourself ineyes ofmen:
		Togive away yourself keeps yourself still,
		And you must live drawn byyour own sweet skill.

 ,         1516.    15   ,   軠 , ..  ,     .

, ,        ,     .     ,    16  ,      .

,    910,              1516(  ,  )  .




17


     ,          ,      ,     my papers (yellowed with their age)      ⠖ The age tocome would say, This poet lies. ,  ,   .  ,        16.  ,         ,        1617.

    ,        .

  頖 Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts,  蠖 Such heavenly touches neer touched earthly faces,     ,   .

		 17.  
		Who will believe my verse intime tocome
		If it were filled with your most high deserts?
		Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as atomb
		Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts.
		If Icould write the beauty ofyour eyes,
		And infresh numbers number all your graces,
		The age tocome would say, This poet lies;
		Such heavenly touches neer touched earthly faces.
		So should my papers (yellowed with theirage)
		Be scorned, like old men ofless truth than tongue,
		And your true rights be termed apoetsrage
		And stretched metre ofan antique song:
		But were some child ofyours alive that time,
		You should live twice, init and inmy rhyme.

                ࠖ But were some child ofyours alive that time.

  ,  , ,  ,       .         ,        18.



 ,     ,    117  , ,    18.

             ,      .

,     117.




 3.  1820.  


    1820,    ࠖ  .         ,      18 20.  ( )        .

  1820   ,  ,  .        117,  1820,    18   1617.  ,   18      1820  , ,     117.




18


          117,   18    . ,      .  ,  17,            , ,      18 So long lives this, and this gives life tothee.

		 18.  
		Shall Icompare thee toasummersday?
		Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
		Rough winds do shake the darling buds ofMay,
		And summers lease hath all too short adate;
		Sometime too hot the eye ofheaven shines,
		And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
		And every fair from fair sometime declines,
		Bychance or natures changing course untrimmed:
		But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
		Nor lose possession ofthat fair thou owst,
		Nor shall Death brag thou wandrest inhis shade,
		When ineternal lines totime thou growst.
		So long as men can breathe or eyes cansee,
		So long lives this, and this gives life tothee.

 ,       18, ,   ,  ?      ,  堖     ,      . ,            , ,   ,      .

            , ,       ,  ,  .      .       .

   ,  .., ,    ,  .

  ,    1718, ⠫     4,         .

 18, ..       18. ,        20.         ,    20      18.  ,    , ,   17- .   18   ,  ,       ,  .

     ,          ,  .

 ,       18.

 ,       21.




19


      my love  .

		 19.  
		Devouring Time, blunt thou the lions paws,
		And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
		Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tigers jaws,
		And burn the long-lived phoenix inher blood;
		Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleetst,
		And do whateer thou wilt, swift-footed Time,
		Tothe wide world and all her fading sweets;
		But Iforbid thee one most heinous crime:
		O, carve not with thy hours my loves fair brow,
		Nor draw no lines there with thine antiquepen;
		Him inthy course untainted do allow
		For beautys pattern tosucceedingmen.
		Yet, do thy worst, old Time: despite thy wrong,
		My love shall inmy verse ever live young.

   19,      ,     ?

   20,         ,  .          ,       .

  my love,     ,     19  ,   ,   堖    .




20


   ࠖ :   ,     And byaddition me ofthee defeated, Byadding one thing tomy purpose nothing.

        .     堖     ( , ),  ,      .

   ,       -   . ,     ,   .

    ,    頖           .  20 ,     .

		 20.  
		Awomans face with Natures own hand painted
		Hast thou, the master-mistress ofmy passion;
		Awomans gentle heart, but not acquainted
		With shifting change, as is false womens fashion;
		An eye more bright than theirs, less false inrolling,
		Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;
		Aman inhue, all hues inhis controlling,
		Which steals mens eyes and womens souls amazeth.
		And for awoman wert thou first created,
		Till Nature as she wrought thee fell a-doting,
		And byaddition me ofthee defeated,
		Byadding one thing tomy purpose nothing.
		But since she pricked thee out for womens pleasure,
		Mine be thy love and thy loves use their treasure.

       .        . ,  ,    ,      ,      20, .. ,     ,   .

Ƞ      21 36,   .



  1820,     18  1920,    ,     .

    18,  ,   .   ,   21      ?




 4.  2136.    


    2136,    ࠖ  .

    ,       ,  , ,      ,    ( ) .

     1171820,      ,   2136   ,  .

 ( )        .

  2136   ,  ,  .        1820,  2136,    21   1820.

 ,   21      2136  , ,     1820.




21


  ,      堖 So is it not with me as with that Muse. Ƞ      ,      .     蠖 Πlet me, true inlove, but truly write,   堫   Making acouplement ofproud compare.

		 21.  
		So is it not with me as with that Muse,
		Stirred byapainted beauty tohis verse,
		Who heaven itself for ornament dothuse,
		And every fair with his fair doth rehearse,
		Making acouplement ofproud compare
		With sun and moon, with earth and seas rich gems,
		With Aprils first-born flowers, and all thingsrare
		That heavens air inthis huge rondure hems.
		Πlet me, true inlove, but truly write,
		And then believe me, my love is asfair
		As any mothers child, though not so bright
		As those gold candles fixed inheavensair:
		Let them say more that like ofhearsay well,
		Iwill not praise that purpose not tosell.

   ?

  ,  18,          .  .

     1820 21.

  ,    1820 21⠫     5,         .

  ,        18,   21         .        21. , ,   1820,        ,      .




22


       .

  ,    ,       ,      1819, ,  ,     .

		 22.  
		My glass shall not persuade me Iamold,
		So long as youth and thou are ofone date,
		But when inthee times furrows Ibehold,
		Then look Ideath my days should expiate:
		For all that beauty that doth coverthee
		Is but the seemly raiment ofmy heart,
		Which inthy breast doth live, as thine inme.
		How can Ithen be elder than thouart?
		Πtherefore, love, be ofthyself sowary
		As Inot for myself but for thee will,
		Bearing thy heart, which Iwill keep so chary
		As tender nurse her babe from faringill:
		Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain;
		Thou gavst me thine, not togive back again

 ,   ,   ,   . ,  ,   ,     젖  蠖 my heart, Which inthy breast doth live, as thine inme.

         ,     ,        Thou gavst me thine, not togive back again.

 ,     ,    1819. , ,   ,     .

 ,        ,    .

  22    ࠖ  ࠖ How can Ithen be elder than thou art.       .    ,       , , .

   ,   ( ),        ,     20,    . ,  22 .

, ,    22    1820  4  .

  22 21,    2  ,     .

,        21,    21 22    ,     ,    21.




23


   ,     2136 .   20   ,  ,        .         렖 forget tosay The perfect ceremony ofloves rite.      , .. ,     .         ,   .

		 23.  
		As an imperfect actor on the stage,
		Who with his fear is put besides his part,
		Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
		Whose strengths abundance weakens his own heart;
		So I, for fear oftrust, forget tosay
		The perfect ceremony ofloves rite,
		And inmine own loves strength seem todecay,
		Oercharged with burden ofmine own loves might:
		Πlet my looks be then the eloquence
		And dumb presagers ofmy speaking breast,
		Who plead for love, and look for recompense,
		More than that tongue that more hath more expressed.
		Πlearn toread what silent love hath writ:
		Tohear with eyes belongs toloves finewit.

, ,  ,     ?  ,      .       , .. , , ,    ()  .  蠖  ,      .  ,   ,    .

 ,  ,      !

      ,   .

     ,      蠫  .

 ,    21       .




24


     .

   ,      젖 Thy beautys form intable ofmy heart; My body is the frame wherein tis held, (,  !) ,     20,     .

		 24.  
		Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled
		Thy beautys form intable ofmy heart;
		My body is the frame wherein tis held,
		And perspective it is best paintersart.
		For through the painter must you see his skill
		Tofind where your true image pictured lies,
		Which inmy bosoms shop is hanging still,
		That hath his windows glazed with, thine eyes.
		Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:
		Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine forme
		Are windows tomy breast, wherethrough thesun
		Delights topeep, togaze therein on thee.
		Yet eyes this cunning want tograce theirart,
		They draw but what they see, know not the heart.

 ,   .        ()  .

        21      .

        .    .

  24 ,   ,      頖  ,  ࠖ They draw but what they see, know not the heart.  ,         , ,   , .

,       21,     ,  ,       .   ,      - ,    .




25


  蠖  젖 Then happy Ithat love and am beloved.        ,    ,    2124,    .

		 25.  
		Let those who are infavour with their stars
		Ofpublic honour and proud titles boast,
		Whilst I, whom fortune ofsuch triumph bars,
		Unlooked for joy inthat Ihonour most.
		Great princes favourites their fair leaves spread
		But as the marigold at the sunseye,
		And inthemselves their pride lies buried,
		For at afrown they intheir glorydie.
		The painful warrior famoused for fight,
		After athousand victories once foiled,
		Is from the book ofhonour rased quite,
		And all the rest forgot for which he toiled:
		Then happy Ithat love and am beloved
		Where Imay not remove, nor be removed.

 ,        .




26


   堖  堖 Tothee Isend this written embassage.

		 26.  
		Lord ofmy love, towhom invassalage
		Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit,
		Tothee Isend this written embassage
		Towitness duty, not toshow mywit;
		Duty so great, which wit so poor asmine
		May make seem bare, inwanting words toshowit,
		But that Ihope some good conceit ofthine
		Inthy souls thought (all naked) will bestowit,
		Till whatsoever star that guides my moving
		Points on me graciously with fair aspect,
		And puts apparel on my tottered loving,
		Toshow me worthy ofthy sweet respect:
		Then may Idare toboast how Ido love thee,
		Till then, not show my head where thou mayst proveme.

         , ..   .   ,      ,   .

   , 堖 ,       ,     ,     2125.   ,        .

                 2125.

 ,        Lord ofmy love,  .

 ,        㠖 Duty so great,  ,    堖  .

 ,          ,   .

,     .

 ,       ? ,    .  ,           砫 .

    ,     .

  ,     ,    ,    26  .




27


     26  ⠖   .

		 27.  
		Weary with toil, Ibaste me tomybed,
		The dear repose for limbs with travel tired,
		But then begins ajourney m my head,
		Towork my mind, when bodys works expired;
		For then my thoughts (from far where Iabide)
		Intend azealous pilgrimage tothee,
		And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,
		Looking on darkness which the blind dosee;
		Save that my souls imaginary sight
		Presents thy shadow tomy sightless view,
		Which, like ajewel (hung inghastly night),
		Makes black night beauteous, and her old facenew.
		Lo thus byday my limbs, bynight my mind,
		For thee, and for myself, no quiet find.

Ƞ 27          젖    Lo thus byday my limbs, bynight my mind,      For then my thoughts (from far where Iabide.      .   , ,  .




28


       蠫     ࠖ How far Itoil, still farther off from thee.        ࠖ    䠖 How can Ithen return inhappy plight, ..   . ,    ,   ,    .

		 28.  
		How can Ithen return inhappy plight
		That am debarred the benefit ofrest?
		When days oppression is not eased bynight,
		But day bynight and night byday oppressed;
		And each (though enemies toeithers reign)
		Do inconsent shake hands totortureme,
		The one bytoil, the other tocomplain
		How far Itoil, still farther off from thee.
		Itell the day toplease him thou art bright,
		And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven;
		So flatter Ithe swart-complexioned night,
		When sparkling stars twire not thou gildst the even:
		But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,
		And night doth nightly make griefs strength seem stronger




29


,       (2128),    ,    21.

		 29.  
		When indisgrace with Fortune and mens eyes,
		Iall alone beweep my outcast state,
		And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
		And look upon myself and curse my fate,
		Wishing me like toone more rich inhope,
		Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
		Desiring this mans art and that mans scope,
		With what Imost enjoy contented least;
		Yet inthese thoughts myself almost despising,
		Haply Ithink on thee, and then my state
		(Like tothe lark at break ofday arising
		From sullen earth) sings hymns at heavens gate;
		For thy sweet love remembred such wealth brings
		That then Iscorn tochange my state with kings.

 堖 Haply Ithink on thee     .

,     ,  . ,     ,     .        .

        29    .




30


     dear friend  .     렖  ,  .

,   ,       ,  ꠫friend ,  girl , ,     . ,    (girl-friend).    ,  ,    ,     ,      .

		 30.  
		When tothe sessions ofsweet silent thought
		Isummon up remembrance ofthings past,
		Isigh the lack ofmany athing Isought,
		And with old woes new wail my dear times waste:
		Then can Idrown an eye (unused toflow)
		For precious friends hid indeaths dateless night,
		And weep afresh loves long since cancelledwoe,
		And moan thexpense ofmany avanished sight;
		Then can Igrieve at grievances foregone,
		And heavily from woe towoe telloer
		The sad account offore-bemoaned moan,
		Which Inew pay as if not paid before:
		But if the while Ithink on thee (dear friend)
		All losses are restored, and sorrowsend.

,    ,      , ,      .

  ,   30     2129,      :  堖 But if the while Ithink on thee (dear friend)  29,    21    , , ,    ,      2224.

  ?     ,    , ..    , ,    ?  ,     ,    2930,     ?  ,        ,    .  ,      ,        ,  ,    堖   .

      30   5051,      ꠫,  ,     .

 ,  30   ,      ,   .

 ,   37 , ..  ,   , ,       .

   36, 3739, ,  ,    ࠖ ,  ,     .

        3742.   30 , , -  .




31


   .

   ,  Their images Iloved Iview inthee , ..   . ,    26,  ,          .

		 31.  
		Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts,
		Which Ibylacking have supposed dead,
		And there reigns love and all loves loving parts,
		And all those friends which Ithought buried.
		How many aholy and obsequioustear
		Hath dear religious love stoln from mineeye,
		As interest ofthe dead; which now appear
		But things removed that hidden intheelie!
		Thou art the grave where buried love doth live,
		Hung with the trophies ofmy lovers gone,
		Who all their parts ofme tothee did give;
		That due ofmany now is thine alone.
		Their images Iloved Iview inthee,
		And thou (all they) hast all the all ofme.

    ,     ,     21 ,   , -,.

     ,    ,   2930.

      .




32


Ƞ    And though they be outstripped byevery pen      18,         .

  18   , ,  32 .       32,   30,     .

 ,     21    ࠖ    32.

     32  ,   74.

		 32.  
		If thou survive my well-contentedday,
		When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover,
		And shalt byfortune once more re-survey
		These poor rude lines ofthy deceased lover,
		Compare them with the bettring ofthe time,
		And though they be outstripped byeverypen,
		Reserve them for my love, not for their rhyme,
		Exceeded bythe height ofhappiermen.
		Πthen vouchsafe me but this loving thought:
		Had my friends Muse grown with this growingage,
		Adearer birth than this his love had brought
		Tomarch inranks ofbetter equipage:
		But since he died, and poets better prove,
		Theirs for their style Ill read, his for his love.




33


      .

		 33.  
		Full many aglorious morning have Iseen
		Flatter the mountain tops with sovereigneye,
		Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
		Gilding pale streams with heavenly alcumy,
		Anon permit the basest clouds toride
		With ugly rack on his celestial face,
		And from the forlorn world his visage hide,
		Stealing unseen towest with this disgrace:
		Even so my sun one early morn did shine
		With all triumphant splendor on my brow;
		But out alack, he was but one hour mine,
		The region cloud hath masked him from menow.
		Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth:
		Suns ofthe world may stain, when heavens sun staineth.

        1  .

      ,  ,   , ,     񻠖 But out alack, he was but one hour mine,    The region cloud hath masked him from me now.

,    21    ࠖ    33.

   33頖  .




34


 ,   2136,        蠖 Ah, but those tears are pearl which thy love sheeds.

 ,        ,    -     ?  , -      .   ,    ,        .

  ,          22, 2728. ,    ,   .

		 34.  
		Why didst thou promise such abeauteousday,
		And make me travel forth without my cloak,
		Tolet base clouds oertake me inmyway,
		Hiding thy bravry intheir rotten smoke?
		Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break,
		Todry the rain on my storm-beaten face,
		For no man well ofsuch asalve can speak,
		That heals the wound, and cures not the disgrace:
		Nor can thy shame give physic tomy grief;
		Though thou repent, yet Ihave still the loss:
		Thoffenders sorrow lends but weak relief
		Tohim that bears the strong offences cross.
		Ah, but those tears are pearl which thy love sheeds,
		And they are rich and ransom all ill deeds.

 ,      34  ,   30      3739,  ,        ,       ࠖ  .

 ,    , -, .

     34  40.




35


  -  ⻠ All men make faults,  34.

		 35.  
		No more be grieved at that which thou hast done:
		Roses have thorns, and silver fountainsmud,
		Clouds and eclipses stain both moon andsun,
		And loathsome canker lives insweetestbud.
		All men make faults, and even Iinthis,
		Authorizing thy trespass with compare,
		Myself corrupting salving thy amiss,
		Excusing thy sins more than their sinsare;
		For tothy sensual fault Ibring insense
		Thy adverse party is thy advocate
		And gainst myself alawful plea commence:
		Such civil war is inmy love andhate
		That Ian accessary needs mustbe
		Tothat sweet thief which sourly robs fromme.

   . Ƞ ,  ,  ,       .

,  頖  .




36


    .

		 36.  
		Let me confess that we two must be twain,
		Although our undivided loves areone:
		So shall those blots that do with me remain,
		Without thy help, byme be borne alone.
		Inour two loves there is but one respect,
		Though inour lives aseparable spite,
		Which though it alter not loves sole effect,
		Yet doth it steal sweet hours from loves delight.
		Imay not evermore acknowledge thee,
		Lest my bewailed guilt should do thee shame,
		Nor thou with public kindness honourme,
		Unless thou take that honour from thy name
		But do not so; Ilove thee insuch sort,
		As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.

 ,      ,    Though inour lives aseparable spite,  , ..    .

           39.

      Yet doth it steal sweet hours from loves delight    ,   ,   20,   .

      36   ,   Imay not evermore acknowledge thee       .

,    ,    ,    ,         .

,      .

            .

  36   ⠫  96. Ƞ   . ,    ,       ,    .

   3  .  96      .

,   36      2136  



 ,  ꠖ       ࠖ      2136.

   , ,   , .

,    .                 .

          .      1820,      3742




 5.  3742.  


    3742,    ࠖ  .

   ,           ,    (2136),  , ..   .

    ⠫    ,     绠         ⠫    .

   3742   ,  .

 ( )        .

  3742   ,  ,  .        2136,  3742,    37   2136.

 ,   37      3742  , ,     2136.




37


     ? , ,   ,       ,.

      ( 31)      . Ƞ   ,     , , , ,      For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit, Or any ofthese all, or all, or more,    ,      .  ,        21.   ,     21 :  ,    ?,    ?  ,            ()  ,   ,      21.

   (    ) ,      .  .

,  蠖   .   ,     3637,   ,     .

		 37.  
		As adecrepit father takes delight
		Tosee his active child do deeds ofyouth,
		So I, made lame byFortunes dearest spite,
		Take all my comfort ofthy worth and truth;
		For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, orwit,
		Or any ofthese all, or all, or more,
		Intitled inthy parts, do crownedsit,
		Imake my love ingrafted tothis store:
		So then Iam not lame, poor, nor despised,
		Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give,
		That Iinthy abundance am sufficed,
		And byapart ofall thy glory live:
		Look what is best, that best Iwish inthee;
		This wish Ihave, then ten times happyme.

       37,       39.      ࠖ And byapart ofall thy glory live ( 37)     ( 39),  젖  .

   .        ,   ?   ?




38


     , ,   18    : ,      ,   ,  蠖 And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth Eternal numbers tooutlive long date.

  ,     , ,   22,    18  .

,    38, ,  ,   22,     2136, ,  ,    1820.   ,    1838  .

 ,     37  ,     :        頖 that pourst into my verse Thine own sweet argument, .

  ,  ,   ,   :   ,  頖 The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.

  ,    ,  37.

		 38.  
		How can my Muse want subject toinvent
		While thou dost breathe, that pourst into my verse
		Thine own sweet argument, too excellent
		For every vulgar paper torehearse?
		Πgive thyself the thanks if aught inme
		Worthy perusal stand against thy sight,
		For whos so dumb that cannot write tothee,
		When thou thyself dost give invention light?
		Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more inworth
		Than those old nine which rhymers invocate,
		And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth
		Eternal numbers tooutlive long date.
		If my slight Muse do please these curious days,
		The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.

        :    Be thou the tenth Muse.

 ,    . ,       ,   .

           ,       , , , .         .




39


   (堖  36)   :     Even for this, let us divided live.

  ,   ? , !   !   ,   ?  !       ( 36),      .

 ,      !

,    ࠖ  ( 36),   ࠖ . ,   ,     ( 39).       ():         Πhow thy worth with manners may Ising,  36     , ..    .   ,   36 ,  39 .

  39     37,        , 젖    thou art all the better part ofme,      .   39, ,   37,    ,  .    2136,   ,      ,  ,         3739.

      20,        .   39,     ,         :      ,     That bythis separation Imay give That due tothee which thou deservest alone.

		 39.  
		Πhow thy worth with manners may Ising,
		When thou art all the better part ofme?
		What can mine own praise tomine own self bring?
		And what ist but mine own when Ipraise thee?
		Even for this, let us divided live,
		And our dear love lose name ofsingleone,
		That bythis separation Imaygive
		That due tothee which thou deservst alone.
		Πabsence, what atorment wouldst thou prove,
		Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave
		Toentertain the time with thoughts oflove,
		Which time and thoughts so sweetly doth deceive,
		And that thou teachest how tomake one twain,
		Bypraising him here who doth hence remain.

 39    ,   20,        .




40


    ࠖ .

      Icannot blame thee for my love thou usest   .

		 40.  
		Take all my loves, my love, yea, take themall;
		What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?
		No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call;
		All mine was thine before thou hadst this more.
		Then if for my love thou my love receivest,
		Icannot blame thee for my love thou usest;
		But yet be blamed, if thou thyself deceivest
		Bywilful taste ofwhat thyself refusest.
		Ido forgive thy robbry, gentle thief,
		Although thou steal thee all my poverty;
		And yet love knows it is agreater grief
		Tobear loves wrong than hates known injury.
		Lascivious grace, inwhom all ill well shows,
		Kill me with spites, yet we must not be foes.

,   ࠖ  ,    ,       : ,     ,    렖 No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call All mine was thine before thou hadst this more,    .

,    ࠖ    ࠖ Although thou steal thee all my poverty.

  ,      34. ,     ,        堖      .

  34      .   40  ,     ,   젖 Kill me with spites, yet we must not be foes.

,      ( 34),  . Ƞ ࠖ ,   40  .

,   40,        34  .




41


   ,        And when awoman woos, what womans son Will sourly leave her till he have prevailed.

   ,      : , ,   堖 When Iam sometime absent from thy heart.          ,  40.

		 41.  
		Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits,
		When Iam sometime absent from thy heart,
		Thy beauty and thy years full well befits,
		For still temptation follows where thouart.
		Gentle thou art, and therefore tobewon,
		Beauteous thou art, therefore tobe assailed;
		And when awoman woos, what womansson
		Will sourly leave her till he have prevailed?
		Ay me, but yet thou mightest my seat forbear,
		And chide thy beauty and thy straying youth,
		Who lead thee intheir riot even there
		Where thou art forced tobreak atwofold truth:
		Hers, bythy beauty tempting her tothee,
		Thine, bythy beauty being false tome.




42


    :   ,   , , ,    렖 That thou hast her, it is not all my grief, And yet it may be said Iloved her dearly.

   .

        3739:      my friend and Iare one,    .

		 42.  
		That thou hast her, it is not all my grief,
		And yet it may be said Iloved her dearly;
		That she hath thee, is ofmy wailing chief,
		Aloss inlove that touches me more nearly.
		Loving offenders, thus Iwill excuseye:
		Thou dost love her because thou knowst Iloveher,
		And for my sake even so doth she abuseme,
		Suff ring my friend for my sake toapproveher.
		If Ilose thee, my loss is my loves gain,
		And losing her, my friend hath found that loss;
		Both find each other, and Ilose both twain,
		And both for my sake lay on me this cross.
		But heres the joy, my friend and Iareone.
		Sweet flattery! then she loves but me alone.

  42    -  .   , , , ,      :   ,    Both find each other, and Ilose both twain.

  ,  ,      34,  ,        34. Ƞ  ,        .

,            .

Ƞ     ,   ,  ,         .

             :    ,   ,  ,   렖 That she hath thee, is ofmy wailing chief, Aloss inlove that touches me more nearly.

,   ,    ,   2039,    ,  .

          . Ƞ  ,     ,   ,       .

      ,     ࠫ .  ,         .          .



   3742    ,  ,    .

 ,     ( )    1820 3742.           ,          ,   21.

,     ,     ,      .

 ,      ,       .

    , ,      ,   , ..   ,        .

           4352.




 6.  4352. , 


    4352,    ࠖ  . : ,   ,   .

  4352 ,         .

  4352   ,  ,  .        3742,  4352,  ,  43,       3742.  ,   43      4352  , ,     3742.




43


   42 , .

    :    For all the day they view things unrespected, 蠫    But when Isleep, indreams they look on thee .

  42 ,   ,       .

,   , ,   ,  43 .  ,    ⠫ 蠫,       砫  .

Ƞ,  ,   :  ,  頖 thy fair imperfect shade.         .

-, ,  ,    ,    37,  ,  ,  38  ,  39    .

  ,   ,    .

-,         ,   ,    39,          .

-,        42,       ,   .

-,        ,     ,       頖  .

,  ,    39,        ,     2136,          .

-, ,          21  , ..    .

		 43.  
		When most Iwink, then do mine eyes bestsee,
		For all the day they view things unrespected;
		But when Isleep, indreams they look on thee,
		And darkly bright, are bright indark directed.
		Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,
		How would thy shadows form form happyshow
		Tothe clear day with thy much clearer light,
		When tounseeing eyes thy shade shinesso!
		How would (Isay) mine eyes be blessed made,
		Bylooking on thee inthe livingday,
		When indead night thy fair imperfect shade
		Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!
		All days are nights tosee till Isee thee,
		And nights bright days when dreams do show theeme.

 ,   43  2728    ,        .       ,        2136.

,   ,  43 4            .




44


,   43,  ,        :     Injurious distance should not stop my way, ,  頖 As soon as think the place where he would be,  堖 From limits far remote, where thou dost stay,    Toleap large lengths ofmiles,    Imust attend times leisure with my moan,    ,    .

		 44.  
		If the dull substance ofmy flesh were thought,
		Injurious distance should not stop myway,
		For then despite ofspace Iwould be brought,
		From limits far remote, where thou dost stay.
		No matter then although my foot did stand
		Upon the farthest earth removed from thee,
		For nimble thought can jump both sea andland
		As soon as think the place where he wouldbe.
		But ah, thought kills me that Iam not thought,
		Toleap large lengths ofmiles when thou art gone,
		But that, so much ofearth and water wrought,
		Imust attend times leisure with my moan,
		Receiving nought byelements soslow
		But heavy tears, badges ofeitherswoe.

  , ..     43.

   .

   , ,     34,   .

         ,    21.




45


       .     44  :  ,    렖 Are both with thee, wherever Iabide.

		 45.  
		The other two, slight air and purging fire,
		Are both with thee, wherever Iabide;
		The first my thought, the other my desire,
		These present-absent with swift motion slide;
		For when these quicker elements aregone
		Intender embassy oflove tothee,
		My life, being made offour, with two alone
		Sinks down todeath, oppressed with melancholy,
		Until lifes composition be recured
		Bythose swift messengers returned from thee,
		Who even but now come back again assured
		Ofthy fair health, recounting it tome.
		This told, Ijoy, but then no longer glad,
		Isend them back again and straight growsad.

   , ,     .

 ,     젖  ࠫ堖 the other my desire   ࠫ  蠖 Intender embassy oflove tothee,      ,   ,    (.   20).

      39,     , ,   :  ,  ,    ,  頖 My life, being made offour, with two alone Sinks down todeath, oppressed with melancholy.




46


   ,    :     ,     砖 Mine eye and heart are at amortal war, How todivide the conquest ofthy sight.

, ,     .  ,     ? ,    ,  ,        ,  .      .

		 46.  
		Mine eye and heart are at amortalwar,
		How todivide the conquest ofthy sight:
		Mine eye my heart thy pictures sight wouldbar,
		My heart mine eye the freedom ofthat right.
		My heart doth plead that thou inhim dostlie
		(Acloset never pierced with crystal eyes),
		But the defendant doth that plea deny,
		And says inhim thy fair appearance lies.
		Totide this title is impanneled
		Aquest ofthoughts, all tenants tothe heart,
		And bytheir verdict is determined
		The clear eyes moiety and the dear hearts part:
		As thus: mine eyes due is thy outward part,
		And my hearts right thy inward love ofheart.

   47  ,   砖  .

,   ,       45.

, ,    ,   . ,  , :  ꠖ   砖 mine eyes due is thy outward part,  , ,  ,  .

     ,     ,      Aquest ofthoughts, all tenants tothe heart, ..    , , ,  ໠   ,   .

,  ,     ,     46. ,   ,  21   ,    , 젖  蠫 .

 ,  , -,  ,   .




47


 -   .

Ƞ   ,      :   頖 With my loves picture. ,        46, ,  47, .  ,   47  4445     :      頖 For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move.

,  ,  񸠖 , , 蠖     ,  .

,   ,  , ..    .

		 47.  
		Betwixt mine eye and heart aleague is took,
		And each doth good turns now unto the other:
		When that mine eye is famished for alook,
		Or heart inlove with sighs himself doth smother,
		With my loves picture then my eye doth feast,
		And tothe painted banquet bids my heart;
		Another time mine eye is my hearts guest,
		And inhis thoughts oflove doth share apart.
		So either bythy picture or my love,
		Thyself, away, art present still withme,
		For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move,
		And Iam still with them, and they with thee;
		Or if they sleep, thy picture inmy sight
		Awakes my heart tohearts and eyes delight.

    ࠖ then my eye doth feast,   , ..    ,    ,  .

 ,     ,  ,    ,    , ..  , ?          .

    ,   ,      ,  .       堖   24     ,  46      ,  35      .

     ,   ,      ,   ,      ,  , .

Ƞ,     21,    ,     ,    .

,      ,      ,   ,      .

    ,    ,  ,    .




48


  , ..      .

   ,    :   How careful was I, when Itook my way,  :    Thee have Inot locked up inany chest.

 ࠫ,  ,  ࠫ  堖 ,    ,    ?

		 48.  
		How careful was I, when Itook myway,
		Each trifle under truest bars tothrust,
		That tomy use it might un-usedstay
		From hands offalsehood, insure wards oftrust!
		But thou, towhom my jewels triflesare,
		Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief,
		Thou best ofdearest, and mine only care,
		Art left the prey ofevery vulgar thief.
		Thee have Inot locked up inany chest,
		Save where thou art not, though Ifeel thouart,
		Within the gentle closure ofmy breast,
		From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part;
		And even thence thou wilt be stoln, Ifear,
		For truth proves thievish for aprize so dear.

,   ,    .

 ,    ⠫ 蠖 Within the gentle closure ofmy breast    , ..       . ʠ        ,   . Ƞ          , ..   -   ,     ,    , ,   ,    .

 ,     ,       ()  .




49


    ,     ,   -  :       When Ishall see thee frown on my defects.




  .


   .

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