Sonnet 112: Your love and pity doth th impression fill

 Your love and pity doth th' impression fill
Which vulgar scandal stamped upon my brow;
For what care I who calls me well or ill,
So you o'ergreen my bad, my good allow?
You are my all the world, and I must strive
To know my shames and praises from your tongue;
None else to me, nor I to none alive,
That my steeled sense or changes, right or wrong.

In so profound abysm I throw all care
Of others' voices that my adder's sense
To critic and to flatterer stoppèd are.

Mark how with my neglect I do dispense.

You are so strongly in my purpose bred,
That all the world besides, methinks, are dead.

Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem |

Poems are below...