Document:  All > Shakespeare > Poetry > Sonnets > Sonnet XL

XL.

Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all;
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,
I cannot blame thee for my love thou usest;
But yet be blamed, if thou thyself deceivest
By wilful taste of what thyself refusest.
I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief,
Although thou steal thee all my poverty;
And yet, love knows, it is a greater grief
To bear love's wrong than hate's known injury.
  Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,
  Kill me with spites; yet we must not be foes.


Search for this word      in all documents   just this document

What do you think? Grade this document:  


(Average grade so far: B+, 9 graders.)

9 grades received so far:

F:  2 users
F
D-:  0 users
D-
D:  0 users
D
D+:  0 users
D+
C-:  0 users
C-
C:  0 users
C
C+:  0 users
C+
B-:  0 users
B-
B:  0 users
B
B+:  1 user
B+
A-:  0 users
A-
A:  1 user
A
A+:  5 users
A+

Need writing help? Try RhymeZone's rhyming dictionary and thesaurus features

Help  Advanced  Feedback  Android  iPhone/iPad  API  Blog  Privacy

Copyright © 2018 Datamuse