Sonnet 146: Poor soul the centre of my sinful earth
Read 'Sonnet 146: Poor soul the centre of my sinful earth' by 'William Shakespeare' and provide your summary and literary analysis in the comments section below.
Sonnet 146: Poor soul the centre of my sinful earth by William Shakespeare
Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth,
My sinful earth these rebel powers array,
Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,
Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
Why so large cost, having so short a lease,
Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
Eat up thy charge? is this thy body's end?
Then soul live thou upon thy servant's loss,
And let that pine to aggravate thy store;
Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;
Within be fed, without be rich no more.
So shall thou feed on Death, that feeds on men,
And Death once dead, there's no more dying then.
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.