Verse > Anthologies > Andrew Macphail, ed. > The Book of Sorrow
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Andrew Macphail, comp.  The Book of Sorrow.  1916.
 
XII. Love and Death
Sonnet: ‘Tir’d with all these, for restful death I cry’
By William Shakespeare (1564–1616)
 
TIR’D with all these, for restful death I cry,—
As to behold desert a beggar born,
And needy nothing trimm’d in jollity,
And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
And gilded honour shamefully misplac’d,        5
And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
And right perfection wrongfully disgrac’d,
And strength by limping sway disabled,
And art made tongue-tied by authority,
And folly—doctor-like—controlling skill,        10
And simple truth miscall’d simplicity,
And captive good attending captain ill:
  Tir’d with all these, from these would I be gone,
  Save that, to die, I leave my love alone.
 
 
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