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William Shakespeare (1564–1616).  The Oxford Shakespeare: Poems.  1914.

Sonnet XXXV.

“No more be griev’d at that which thou hast done”


NO more be griev’d at that which thou hast done 
Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud; 
Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun, 
And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud. 
All men make faults, and even I in this,         5
Authorising thy trespass with compare, 
Myself corrupting, salving thy amiss, 
Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are; 
For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense,— 
Thy adverse party is thy advocate,—  10
And ’gainst myself a lawful plea commence: 
Such civil war is in my love and hate, 
  That I an accessary needs must be 
  To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me. 


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