 :  .  
 


            ,    .   , , , ,    ,       , ,  ,         ,  ,  ,        .





 :  

 



 



 ,2019



ISBN978-5-4496-8603-9

     Ridero







        ,  2015      ,       ,   () ,     ,   ,    ,         ,          .        35         .       60-   ,      ,    ,  ,     .           .

 ,   蠖     ,        ,   ,               .

      ,    ,  ,  ,   ,  .

                 ,        ,        ,     .        2015,         ,   , ,       ,   , 蠫  2018    ,   .   ⠫     ,  ,    ,     ?



 ,    , . . , ,  ,    ,   .   ,       , ,      ,     ,  ,   ,   ,     .

,   , -,   , ,  ,     - ,   .

    ,         , ,   -,      .

      , ..    (),  (),  ( ),    .. ..,       ,    .   ,    , ,  ,    -    .

,        ⠖   ,    . , ,   ,       ,      ,   ,  ,   ,  .

      , ,  ,    ,   ( ),   ( )    ࠖ  , ,  ,      ,  ,      .

    , , ,   ,        , ,   ,   .

,   .    .

,      ,       ,    , , -,  ?

       ?

      -     ?

  蠖       ,                ,   ,      .



    ,   ,    ࠖ      ,  .

           , ,      . Ƞ ,   ,       ,   .

, ,  ,   ,      , ,     . ,   ,     ,  ,    (   )  ,    ,     .

, -,    ,   ,  .   ,    ,     ,  ,   ,  .

-,  ⠖   ࠖ   , ,    .     ,       .

   ,      ,    ,   .       ,   .    , -,  , , ,     .

-,   ,              , ,  . ,      ,       ,      ,    .

-,           , ,  ,         ,    ,       ,  ,  .



           ,      ,   , ,      ,  ,      ,  .

 ,      (     )  ,    , ,    ,     . , ,   20-         .    20-      . Ƞ  ,       .      ,     . ,     , ,      20- , ,  30, 34, 40, 42, 50, 51, 88, 99,102.

,  20    ,        ( 蠖  )  ,  ,  ,   .  ,              ,   ,      ,    ,      ,    ,  ,  .

    蠖         .

,          ,     ,     . Ƞ     .

   ,    ,        .

-,        ,      ,      .

-,  ⠖  , , ,     , ,      ,     .

-,           ,  , , , .      ,       ,       .

-,             ,        , ,  ,     .

,   ,   ,      ,      ,      .

,   ,    ,    ,      ,    .     - ,   -      .

   ,   ,         ,  ,           .



       . Ÿ        1609,         W.H..

,     ,   ,    , ,   ,       .

   , ,  ,  1613,  ,   1623,     ,   1627 -堖    ,     1666,         --.

 ,   ,        17-  18-       .

        .      , ,  ,  ,  ,  .

,  ,        ,     ,      ,     , ,      .

     ,       .

   ,      ,         ,        ,      W.H..

,  ,  ,     ,    W.H.         .

   ,       .

  18-    ,     .  1780    ,  126   ,        ,    .  ,   18-         ,  . Ƞ,  ,      ,  ,        ,      ,   ,     126⠖  ,       .

  ,    , -,    , ..      . Ѡ ,        .

   ,   ,  ,     ,       ,   .      .

 ,  ,        ,  ,   W.H.,           . ,          .

   ,     ,    -  .  ,   ,  ,   ,   .     ,   ,  ,    .

,    ,        ,     (, 1966). ,     15971600,     18- 104-.     , ..         ,       (9596, 104).

  17-    104-   ,      ,   ࠖ   .

    100- 126- 1601    (.  . . 1899).     ,       ,  ,  ,  15991600.

,        .

     1890          15981601,     55, 104107, ,       ,        .



 20-    , ,       ,          ,              .

      ,   ,   ,  ,  ,       .

       .

Ѡ   ,          ,    ,       .

       ,              .

,          .

      ,      .

     ,             ,    ,    ,   -, .



             ,           .

 ,         .

   ,    , ,   ,       .

   ,     .

    ,      ,       ,       .

   ,       ,      ,    .

,      .

       , ..       ,             , ,  , .

  ,   (   )     100126 ,     .

       , ..,     ,          .

,       .

,    ,    .



         2015 ,      ,           .

,   ,    .

            .

          ,          (- )    ,     ,   ,    .

     .

        ,          .

       ,      ()  .

        ,         ,      .



  ,   ,        ,       , , ,   , ,     .      ,         ,      .



 ,        ,       ,      .

    ,     ,       ,   ,       .       , ..   ,    .

     ()     ,    ,        , ,  ,      .    ,  ,    ,     .



      ,      ,  16  10.         25,   25 31      1,   1 24      ,  25  ,  1  ,.

,        : 25ࠖ 31 1597,  : 1 24 1597/8.

    ,    ,  1 24  ,    .

,        :  15 1595     -    .  (26)   (28)   ,  28 1594      . ʠ  ,  28 1594  -      .

    ,       1,    28    1594,     .

,  .      1595,       1596  , .. 15 1595/6.

, 2628 1595      -, 28 1594    ,   28 1594  -     .



 ,         ,       .

      ,     ,  ,   , , ,   .

  ,        , . .   ,  ,  ,       ,       . ,         .




 1.    





 1.   .  


        ?

                .  ,     ,        , ,             .

          .

 ,  ,  ,       ,       .   ,   ,  ,     ?

,         .   ,  ,    ,   , -,.

,   ,        ,        .      .

,   ,       .  ,     ,     , , -,     .

,     !

      . Ƞ,  ,  ,    ,    ,     .   ,   ,     . Ѡ       .

 ,     ,    , ,      ,     .

  1780       (17411812)   126,   堖  ,    127154,  堖  .

      ,      ,      .

     ,         ,   .    ?

     .     ,    .      ,     .     :        .

        ,   ,   .          .  ,  ,  蠖     17- 18- .

,    , ..   , ,   ,   ,    ,  17- 18-     ,    ,    .



    ,       19-   ,     , ,        .

Ƞ    ,      ,    ,     ?

 ,             1592,        ,   .    ,      , ..   ?



                  , ..   ,     ,      .



,  ,      ,   .

    :

1.       ,  ,  ;

2.       ;

3.        ;

4.  ,  ,     ;

5.    ()   .

      .

        :

1.      .

2.       ,   ;

3.       ;

4.    ;

5.          ,           .

        ,            ,      .

,     ,       .

Ѡ      .

      ,     ,     .

       .

   ,   ,     ,     , , : , , .   ,             ,   , .. ,     .

     .



   :    ⠖  .

1.      砖  .

2.     頖  .

3.    ࠖ  .

4.       .

5. Ƞ ,     .



, ,        3.       1245.

   ,     ,  ,    . ,      ?  ,   ,       .    ,  .

,          (⠫)  .

    ࠖ  ,       .

     , ,  102   .           1  ,   .

 , ,     ,   ,    .      .

,  3    ,   .

 ,  3       (15541586)    (  1595.),         .  ,                .



 , ,             ,       .

 ,     , , ,     ,   ,   ,    .

  ,     ,   蠖    .

          .

       ,     .    ,     ,   ,     .

   ,   ,   , ,    ,   , ,      ,      .

  ,          ,       ,  ,        ()    ,    .

     ,      ,     ,   ,  ,     () .

 ,  ,     17     106.




 2.  117.  


    117,    ࠖ  ,   20,   , ,       ,  ,  ,  .

          ,      117.

 ( )        .




1


    ,            ,  ,   .       But as the riper should bytime decease.

		 1.  .
		From fairest creatures we desire increase,
		That thereby beautys rose might neverdie,
		But as the riper should bytime decease,
		His tender heir might bear his memory:
		But thou, contracted tothine own bright eyes,
		Feedst thy lights flame with self-substantial fuel,
		Making afamine where abundance lies,
		Thyself thy foe, tothy sweet self too cruel.
		Thou that art now the worlds fresh ornament
		And only herald tothe gaudy spring,
		Within thine own bud buriest thy content,
		And, tender churl, makst waste inniggarding:
		Pity the world, or else this gluttonbe,
		Toeat the worlds due, bythe grave and thee.




2


  蠖  젖 forty winters.   .

		 2.  
		When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
		And dig deep trenches inthy beautys field,
		Thy youths proud livery so gazed onnow
		Will be atottered weed ofsmall worth held:
		Then being asked where all thy beauty lies,
		Where all the treasure ofthy lusty days,
		Tosay within thine own deep-sunkeneyes
		Were an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise.
		How much more praise deserved thy beautysuse,
		If thou couldst answer, This fair child ofmine
		Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,
		Proving his beauty bysuccession thine.
		This were tobe new made when thou artold,
		And see thy blood warm when thou feelst itld




3


   .      ,    For where is she so fair whose uneared womb Disdains the tillage ofthy husbandry?.

   ࠖ Thou art thy mothers glass. Ÿ     .   .

		 3.  
		Look inthy glass and tell the face thou viewest,
		Now is the time that face should form another,
		Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
		Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
		For where is she so fair whose unearedwomb
		Disdains the tillage ofthy husbandry?
		Or who is he so fond will be thetomb
		Ofhis self-love tostop posterity?
		Thou art thy mothers glass, and she inthee
		Calls back the lovely April ofher prime;
		So thou through windows ofthine age shaltsee,
		Despite ofwrinkles, this thy golden time.
		But if thou live remembred not tobe,
		Die single, and thine image dies with thee.




4


    젖 Profitless usurer.   .

		 4.  
		Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend
		Upon thyself thy beautys legacy?
		Natures bequest gives nothing, but doth lend,
		And being frank she lends tothose are free:
		Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse
		The bounteous largess given thee togive?
		Profitless usurer, why dost thouuse
		So great asum ofsums, yet canst not live?
		For having traffic with thyself alone,
		Thou ofthyself thy sweet self dost deceive:
		Then how, when Nature calls thee tobe gone,
		What acceptable audit canst thou leave?
		Thy unused beauty must be tombed with thee,
		Which used lives thexecutor tobe.




5


   ࠖ summers distillation    .           蠖 Beautys effect with beauty were bereft, Nor it nor no remembrance what it was.

  .      ,    .

		 5.  
		Those hours that with gentle work did frame
		The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell
		Will play the tyrants tothe very same,
		And that unfair which fairly doth excel;
		For never-resting time leads summeron
		Tohideous winter and confounds him there,
		Sap checked with frost and lusty leaves quite gone,
		Beauty oersnowed and bareness every where:
		Then were not summers distillationleft
		Aliquid prisoner pent inwalls ofglass,
		Beautys effect with beauty were bereft,
		Nor it nor no remembrance what itwas.
		But flowers distilled, though they with winter meet,
		Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet




6


   ࠖ      ,    3.   , . .         , 𻠖 self-willed.            .

		 6.  
		Then let not winters ragged hand deface
		Inthee thy summer ere thou be distilled:
		Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place
		With beautys treasure ere it be self-killed:
		That use is not forbidden usury
		Which happies those that pay the willing loan;
		Thats for thyself tobreed another thee,
		Or ten times happier be it ten forone;
		Ten times thyself were happier than thouart,
		If ten ofthine ten times refigured thee:
		Then what could death do if thou shouldst depart,
		Leaving thee living inposterity?
		Be not self-willed, for thou art much toofair
		Tobe deaths conquest and make worms thineheir




7


    ࠖ ,    So thou, thyself outgoing inthy noon    .       7.    , ..     , ..  25-   .

    2   .      , .. 20  .

  ,       ,       .

		 7.  
		Lo inthe orient when the gracious light
		Lifts up his burning head, each undereye
		Doth homage tohis new-appearing sight,
		Serving with looks his sacred majesty;
		And having climbed the steep-up heavenly hill,
		Resembling strong youth inhis middleage,
		Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,
		Attending on his golden pilgrimage:
		But when from highmost pitch, with wearycar,
		Like feeble age he reeleth from theday,
		The eyes (fore duteous) now convertedare
		From his low tract and look anotherway:
		So thou, thyself outgoing inthy noon,
		Unlooked on diest unless thou get ason.




8


       ࠖ .

		 8.  
		Music tohear, why hearst thou music sadly?
		Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights injoy:
		Why lovst thou that which thou receivst not gladly,
		Or else receivst with pleasure thine annoy?
		If the true concord ofwell-tuned sounds,
		Byunions married, do offend thineear,
		They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
		Insingleness the parts that thou shouldst bear;
		Mark how one string, sweet husband toanother,
		Strikes each ineach bymutual ordering;
		Resembling sire, and child, and happy mother,
		Who all inone, one pleasing note do sing;
		Whose speechless song being many, seemingone,
		Sings this tothee, Thou single wilt prove none.




9


      .  ,  9,       ,      ,         ,  ,  9,      .  ,       ,         .

 , ⠫  But beautys waste hath inthe world an end, And kept unused the user so destroys it:, ⠫ 젖 No love toward others inthat bosom sits  9,     ,          ,   .      ,  , .

      1, 133    .  ,        ,     ,  .

		 9.  
		Is it for fear towet awidowseye
		That thou consumst thyself insingle life?
		Ah! if thou issueless shalt hap todie,
		The world will wail thee like amakeless wife;
		The world will be thy widow and still weep,
		That thou no form ofthee hast left behind,
		When every private widow well may keep,
		Bychildrens eyes, her husbands shape inmind:
		Look what an unthrift inthe world doth spend
		Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoysit,
		But beautys waste hath inthe world anend,
		And kept unused the user so destroysit:
		No love toward others inthat bosomsits
		That on himself such murdrous shame commits.

, , ,  ?  ,    ,      , ,  4042,     ,      .




10


    ⠫ 堖 For thou art so possessd with murdrous hate.

		 10.  
		For shame deny that thou bear-st love toany,
		Who for thyself art so improvident.
		Grant, if thou wilt, thou art beloved ofmany,
		But that thou none lovst is most evident;
		For thou art so possessd with murdrous hate,
		That gainst thyself thou stickst not toconspire,
		Seeking that beauteous roof toruinate
		Which torepair should be thy chief desire:
		Πchange thy thought, that Imay change my mind!
		Shall hate be fairer lodged than gentle love?
		Be as thy presence is, gracious and kind,
		Or tothyself at least kind-hearted prove:
		Make thee another self, for love ofme,
		That beauty still may live inthine or thee.

       ,   .

       ,    ,     117  .

  堖  ,    .    ࠫ   ,    ⠫ .

,         9,    910,         .

 ,       .      ?

       ,       10     .




11


  ,  .

                ,      .

   11: Ƞ  ,    ,    ,    And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestowst Thou mayst call thine, when thou from youth convertest,   2:   ,       ,   䠖 This were tobe new made when thou art old, And see thy blood warm when thou feelst it ld.

       .

		 11.  
		As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou growst
		Inone ofthine, from that which thou departest,
		And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestowst
		Thou mayst call thine, when thou from youth convertest:
		Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase,
		Without this, folly, age, and cold decay:
		If all were minded so, the times should cease,
		And threescore year would make the world away.
		Let those whom Nature hath not made for store,
		Harsh, featureless, and rude, barrenly perish:
		Look whom she best endowed she gave the more;
		Which bounteous gift thou shouldst inbounty cherish:
		She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby,
		Thou shouldst print more, not let that copydie.




12


  ,   day sunk inhideous night 蠫 蠖 Times scythe.

		 12.  
		When Ido count the clock that tells the time,
		And see the brave day sunk inhideous night,
		When Ibehold the violet past prime,
		And sable curls all silvered oer with white,
		When lofty trees Isee barren ofleaves,
		Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
		And summers green all girded up insheaves
		Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard:
		Then ofthy beauty do Iquestionmake
		That thou among the wastes oftime mustgo,
		Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake,
		And die as fast as they see others grow,
		And nothing gainst Times scythe can make defence
		Save breed tobrave him when he takes thee hence.




13


   my love     .    ?

    .  my love      , 堖 O, none but unthrifts: dear my love.

    .      , ,   my love   .

		 13.  
		Πthat you were your self! but, love, youare
		No longer yours than you yourself here live;
		Against this coming end you should prepare,
		And^your sweet semblance tosome other give:
		So should that beauty which you hold inlease
		Find no determination; then youwere
		Your self again after yourself s decease,
		When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear.
		Who lets so fair ahouse fall todecay,
		Which husbandry inhonour might uphold
		Against the stormy gusts ofwintersday
		And barren rage ofdeaths eternal cold?
		O, none but unthrifts: dear my love, youknow
		You had afather, let your son sayso.

 ,      蠖 You had afather.

,     . ,  1,     .       .

        ,          ,  ,   .    ( )   (15301601),     (15341601)     (15951601)  .   ,       ,  .

    .   112   ࠫ,    ࠫ.

     ,    thou     ,     you ,       .

  ,     13?     ?   112 ,     ,     .    ,    ,  ,    ,     ,    ,     .   ,      .




14


      .   頖 As truth and beauty shall together thrive, ,  .

    ࠫ, ,  ,   . ,   .

		 14.  
		Not from the stars do Imy judgement pluck,
		And yet methinks Ihave astronomy,
		But not totell ofgood or evil luck,
		Ofplagues, ofdearths, or seasons quality;
		Nor can Ifortune tobrief minutes tell,
		Pointing toeach his thunder, rain and wind,
		Or say with princes if it shall gowell
		Byoft predict that Iinheaven find:
		But from thine eyes my knowledge Iderive,
		And, constant stars, inthem Iread suchart
		As truth and beauty shall together thrive
		If from thy self tostore thou wouldst convert:
		Or else ofthee this Iprognosticate,
		Thy end is truths and beautys doom anddate




15


    ,   14.         蠫ꠖ Iingraft you new , ..  .    .  ࠫ       .

		 15.  
		When Iconsider every thing that grows
		Holds inperfection but alittle moment,
		That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows
		Whereon the stars insecret influence comment;
		When Iperceive that men as plants increase,
		Cheered and checked even bythe selfsamesky,
		Vaunt intheir youthful sap, at height decrease,
		And wear their brave state out ofmemory:
		Then the conceit ofthis inconstantstay
		Sets you most rich inyouth before my sight,
		Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay
		Tochange your day ofyouth tosullied night,
		And all inwar with Time for love ofyou,
		As he takes from you, Iingraft younew.




16


     (my barren rhyme)   .   my pupil pen      ,       頖 you live yourself ineyes ofmen.        ,    Togive away yourself keeps yourself still,,  蠫 ,       .

		 16.  
		But wherefore do not you amightierway
		Make war upon this bloody tyrant Time,
		And fortify yourself inyour decay
		With means more blessed than my barren rhyme?
		Now stand you on the top ofhappy hours,
		And many maiden gardens, yet unset,
		With virtuous wish would bear your living flowers,
		Much liker than your painted counterfeit:
		So should the lines oflife that life repair
		Which this times pencil or my pupilpen
		Neither ininward worth nor outwardfair
		Can make you live yourself ineyes ofmen:
		Togive away yourself keeps yourself still,
		And you must live drawn byyour own sweet skill.

 ,         1516.    15   ,   軠 , ..  ,     .

, ,        ,     .     ,    16  ,      .

,    910,              1516(  ,  )  .




17


     ,          ,      ,     my papers (yellowed with their age)      ⠖ The age tocome would say, This poet lies. ,  ,   .  ,        16.  ,         ,        1617.

    ,        .

  頖 Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts,  蠖 Such heavenly touches neer touched earthly faces,     ,   .

		 17.  
		Who will believe my verse intime tocome
		If it were filled with your most high deserts?
		Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as atomb
		Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts.
		If Icould write the beauty ofyour eyes,
		And infresh numbers number all your graces,
		The age tocome would say, This poet lies;
		Such heavenly touches neer touched earthly faces.
		So should my papers (yellowed with theirage)
		Be scorned, like old men ofless truth than tongue,
		And your true rights be termed apoetsrage
		And stretched metre ofan antique song:
		But were some child ofyours alive that time,
		You should live twice, init and inmy rhyme.

                ࠖ But were some child ofyours alive that time.

  ,  , ,  ,       .         ,        18.



 ,     ,    117  , ,    18.

             ,      .

,     117.




 3.  1820.  


    1820,    ࠖ  .         ,      18 20.  ( )        .

  1820   ,  ,  .        117,  1820,    18   1617.  ,   18      1820  , ,     117.




18


          117,   18    . ,      .  ,  17,            , ,      18 So long lives this, and this gives life tothee.

		 18.  
		Shall Icompare thee toasummersday?
		Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
		Rough winds do shake the darling buds ofMay,
		And summers lease hath all too short adate;
		Sometime too hot the eye ofheaven shines,
		And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
		And every fair from fair sometime declines,
		Bychance or natures changing course untrimmed:
		But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
		Nor lose possession ofthat fair thou owst,
		Nor shall Death brag thou wandrest inhis shade,
		When ineternal lines totime thou growst.
		So long as men can breathe or eyes cansee,
		So long lives this, and this gives life tothee.

 ,       18, ,   ,  ?      ,  堖     ,      . ,            , ,   ,      .

            , ,       ,  ,  .      .       .

   ,  .., ,    ,  .

  ,    1718, ⠫     4,         .

 18, ..       18. ,        20.         ,    20      18.  ,    , ,   17- .   18   ,  ,       ,  .

     ,          ,  .

 ,       18.

 ,       21.




19


      my love  .

		 19.  
		Devouring Time, blunt thou the lions paws,
		And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
		Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tigers jaws,
		And burn the long-lived phoenix inher blood;
		Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleetst,
		And do whateer thou wilt, swift-footed Time,
		Tothe wide world and all her fading sweets;
		But Iforbid thee one most heinous crime:
		O, carve not with thy hours my loves fair brow,
		Nor draw no lines there with thine antiquepen;
		Him inthy course untainted do allow
		For beautys pattern tosucceedingmen.
		Yet, do thy worst, old Time: despite thy wrong,
		My love shall inmy verse ever live young.

   19,      ,     ?

   20,         ,  .          ,       .

  my love,     ,     19  ,   ,   堖    .




20


   ࠖ :   ,     And byaddition me ofthee defeated, Byadding one thing tomy purpose nothing.

        .     堖     ( , ),  ,      .

   ,       -   . ,     ,   .

    ,    頖           .  20 ,     .

		 20.  
		Awomans face with Natures own hand painted
		Hast thou, the master-mistress ofmy passion;
		Awomans gentle heart, but not acquainted
		With shifting change, as is false womens fashion;
		An eye more bright than theirs, less false inrolling,
		Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;
		Aman inhue, all hues inhis controlling,
		Which steals mens eyes and womens souls amazeth.
		And for awoman wert thou first created,
		Till Nature as she wrought thee fell a-doting,
		And byaddition me ofthee defeated,
		Byadding one thing tomy purpose nothing.
		But since she pricked thee out for womens pleasure,
		Mine be thy love and thy loves use their treasure.

       .        . ,  ,    ,      ,      20, .. ,     ,   .

Ƞ      21 36,   .



  1820,     18  1920,    ,     .

    18,  ,   .   ,   21      ?




 4.  2136.    


    2136,    ࠖ  .

    ,       ,  , ,      ,    ( ) .

     1171820,      ,   2136   ,  .

 ( )        .

  2136   ,  ,  .        1820,  2136,    21   1820.

 ,   21      2136  , ,     1820.




21


  ,      堖 So is it not with me as with that Muse. Ƞ      ,      .     蠖 Πlet me, true inlove, but truly write,   堫   Making acouplement ofproud compare.

		 21.  
		So is it not with me as with that Muse,
		Stirred byapainted beauty tohis verse,
		Who heaven itself for ornament dothuse,
		And every fair with his fair doth rehearse,
		Making acouplement ofproud compare
		With sun and moon, with earth and seas rich gems,
		With Aprils first-born flowers, and all thingsrare
		That heavens air inthis huge rondure hems.
		Πlet me, true inlove, but truly write,
		And then believe me, my love is asfair
		As any mothers child, though not so bright
		As those gold candles fixed inheavensair:
		Let them say more that like ofhearsay well,
		Iwill not praise that purpose not tosell.

   ?

  ,  18,          .  .

     1820 21.

  ,    1820 21⠫     5,         .

  ,        18,   21         .        21. , ,   1820,        ,      .




22


       .

  ,    ,       ,      1819, ,  ,     .

		 22.  
		My glass shall not persuade me Iamold,
		So long as youth and thou are ofone date,
		But when inthee times furrows Ibehold,
		Then look Ideath my days should expiate:
		For all that beauty that doth coverthee
		Is but the seemly raiment ofmy heart,
		Which inthy breast doth live, as thine inme.
		How can Ithen be elder than thouart?
		Πtherefore, love, be ofthyself sowary
		As Inot for myself but for thee will,
		Bearing thy heart, which Iwill keep so chary
		As tender nurse her babe from faringill:
		Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain;
		Thou gavst me thine, not togive back again

 ,   ,   ,   . ,  ,   ,     젖  蠖 my heart, Which inthy breast doth live, as thine inme.

         ,     ,        Thou gavst me thine, not togive back again.

 ,     ,    1819. , ,   ,     .

 ,        ,    .

  22    ࠖ  ࠖ How can Ithen be elder than thou art.       .    ,       , , .

   ,   ( ),        ,     20,    . ,  22 .

, ,    22    1820  4  .

  22 21,    2  ,     .

,        21,    21 22    ,     ,    21.




23


   ,     2136 .   20   ,  ,        .         렖 forget tosay The perfect ceremony ofloves rite.      , .. ,     .         ,   .

		 23.  
		As an imperfect actor on the stage,
		Who with his fear is put besides his part,
		Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
		Whose strengths abundance weakens his own heart;
		So I, for fear oftrust, forget tosay
		The perfect ceremony ofloves rite,
		And inmine own loves strength seem todecay,
		Oercharged with burden ofmine own loves might:
		Πlet my looks be then the eloquence
		And dumb presagers ofmy speaking breast,
		Who plead for love, and look for recompense,
		More than that tongue that more hath more expressed.
		Πlearn toread what silent love hath writ:
		Tohear with eyes belongs toloves finewit.

, ,  ,     ?  ,      .       , .. , , ,    ()  .  蠖  ,      .  ,   ,    .

 ,  ,      !

      ,   .

     ,      蠫  .

 ,    21       .




24


     .

   ,      젖 Thy beautys form intable ofmy heart; My body is the frame wherein tis held, (,  !) ,     20,     .

		 24.  
		Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled
		Thy beautys form intable ofmy heart;
		My body is the frame wherein tis held,
		And perspective it is best paintersart.
		For through the painter must you see his skill
		Tofind where your true image pictured lies,
		Which inmy bosoms shop is hanging still,
		That hath his windows glazed with, thine eyes.
		Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:
		Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine forme
		Are windows tomy breast, wherethrough thesun
		Delights topeep, togaze therein on thee.
		Yet eyes this cunning want tograce theirart,
		They draw but what they see, know not the heart.

 ,   .        ()  .

        21      .

        .    .

  24 ,   ,      頖  ,  ࠖ They draw but what they see, know not the heart.  ,         , ,   , .

,       21,     ,  ,       .   ,      - ,    .




25


  蠖  젖 Then happy Ithat love and am beloved.        ,    ,    2124,    .

		 25.  
		Let those who are infavour with their stars
		Ofpublic honour and proud titles boast,
		Whilst I, whom fortune ofsuch triumph bars,
		Unlooked for joy inthat Ihonour most.
		Great princes favourites their fair leaves spread
		But as the marigold at the sunseye,
		And inthemselves their pride lies buried,
		For at afrown they intheir glorydie.
		The painful warrior famoused for fight,
		After athousand victories once foiled,
		Is from the book ofhonour rased quite,
		And all the rest forgot for which he toiled:
		Then happy Ithat love and am beloved
		Where Imay not remove, nor be removed.

 ,        .




26


   堖  堖 Tothee Isend this written embassage.

		 26.  
		Lord ofmy love, towhom invassalage
		Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit,
		Tothee Isend this written embassage
		Towitness duty, not toshow mywit;
		Duty so great, which wit so poor asmine
		May make seem bare, inwanting words toshowit,
		But that Ihope some good conceit ofthine
		Inthy souls thought (all naked) will bestowit,
		Till whatsoever star that guides my moving
		Points on me graciously with fair aspect,
		And puts apparel on my tottered loving,
		Toshow me worthy ofthy sweet respect:
		Then may Idare toboast how Ido love thee,
		Till then, not show my head where thou mayst proveme.

         , ..   .   ,      ,   .

   , 堖 ,       ,     ,     2125.   ,        .

                 2125.

 ,        Lord ofmy love,  .

 ,        㠖 Duty so great,  ,    堖  .

 ,          ,   .

,     .

 ,       ? ,    .  ,           砫 .

    ,     .

  ,     ,    ,    26  .




27


     26  ⠖   .

		 27.  
		Weary with toil, Ibaste me tomybed,
		The dear repose for limbs with travel tired,
		But then begins ajourney m my head,
		Towork my mind, when bodys works expired;
		For then my thoughts (from far where Iabide)
		Intend azealous pilgrimage tothee,
		And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,
		Looking on darkness which the blind dosee;
		Save that my souls imaginary sight
		Presents thy shadow tomy sightless view,
		Which, like ajewel (hung inghastly night),
		Makes black night beauteous, and her old facenew.
		Lo thus byday my limbs, bynight my mind,
		For thee, and for myself, no quiet find.

Ƞ 27          젖    Lo thus byday my limbs, bynight my mind,      For then my thoughts (from far where Iabide.      .   , ,  .




28


       蠫     ࠖ How far Itoil, still farther off from thee.        ࠖ    䠖 How can Ithen return inhappy plight, ..   . ,    ,   ,    .

		 28.  
		How can Ithen return inhappy plight
		That am debarred the benefit ofrest?
		When days oppression is not eased bynight,
		But day bynight and night byday oppressed;
		And each (though enemies toeithers reign)
		Do inconsent shake hands totortureme,
		The one bytoil, the other tocomplain
		How far Itoil, still farther off from thee.
		Itell the day toplease him thou art bright,
		And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven;
		So flatter Ithe swart-complexioned night,
		When sparkling stars twire not thou gildst the even:
		But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,
		And night doth nightly make griefs strength seem stronger




29


,       (2128),    ,    21.

		 29.  
		When indisgrace with Fortune and mens eyes,
		Iall alone beweep my outcast state,
		And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
		And look upon myself and curse my fate,
		Wishing me like toone more rich inhope,
		Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
		Desiring this mans art and that mans scope,
		With what Imost enjoy contented least;
		Yet inthese thoughts myself almost despising,
		Haply Ithink on thee, and then my state
		(Like tothe lark at break ofday arising
		From sullen earth) sings hymns at heavens gate;
		For thy sweet love remembred such wealth brings
		That then Iscorn tochange my state with kings.

 堖 Haply Ithink on thee     .

,     ,  . ,     ,     .        .

        29    .




30


     dear friend  .     렖  ,  .

,   ,       ,  ꠫friend ,  girl , ,     . ,    (girl-friend).    ,  ,    ,     ,      .

		 30.  
		When tothe sessions ofsweet silent thought
		Isummon up remembrance ofthings past,
		Isigh the lack ofmany athing Isought,
		And with old woes new wail my dear times waste:
		Then can Idrown an eye (unused toflow)
		For precious friends hid indeaths dateless night,
		And weep afresh loves long since cancelledwoe,
		And moan thexpense ofmany avanished sight;
		Then can Igrieve at grievances foregone,
		And heavily from woe towoe telloer
		The sad account offore-bemoaned moan,
		Which Inew pay as if not paid before:
		But if the while Ithink on thee (dear friend)
		All losses are restored, and sorrowsend.

,    ,      , ,      .

  ,   30     2129,      :  堖 But if the while Ithink on thee (dear friend)  29,    21    , , ,    ,      2224.

  ?     ,    , ..    , ,    ?  ,     ,    2930,     ?  ,        ,    .  ,      ,        ,  ,    堖   .

      30   5051,      ꠫,  ,     .

 ,  30   ,      ,   .

 ,   37 , ..  ,   , ,       .

   36, 3739, ,  ,    ࠖ ,  ,     .

        3742.   30 , , -  .




31


   .

   ,  Their images Iloved Iview inthee , ..   . ,    26,  ,          .

		 31.  
		Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts,
		Which Ibylacking have supposed dead,
		And there reigns love and all loves loving parts,
		And all those friends which Ithought buried.
		How many aholy and obsequioustear
		Hath dear religious love stoln from mineeye,
		As interest ofthe dead; which now appear
		But things removed that hidden intheelie!
		Thou art the grave where buried love doth live,
		Hung with the trophies ofmy lovers gone,
		Who all their parts ofme tothee did give;
		That due ofmany now is thine alone.
		Their images Iloved Iview inthee,
		And thou (all they) hast all the all ofme.

    ,     ,     21 ,   , -,.

     ,    ,   2930.

      .




32


Ƞ    And though they be outstripped byevery pen      18,         .

  18   , ,  32 .       32,   30,     .

 ,     21    ࠖ    32.

     32  ,   74.

		 32.  
		If thou survive my well-contentedday,
		When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover,
		And shalt byfortune once more re-survey
		These poor rude lines ofthy deceased lover,
		Compare them with the bettring ofthe time,
		And though they be outstripped byeverypen,
		Reserve them for my love, not for their rhyme,
		Exceeded bythe height ofhappiermen.
		Πthen vouchsafe me but this loving thought:
		Had my friends Muse grown with this growingage,
		Adearer birth than this his love had brought
		Tomarch inranks ofbetter equipage:
		But since he died, and poets better prove,
		Theirs for their style Ill read, his for his love.




33


      .

		 33.  
		Full many aglorious morning have Iseen
		Flatter the mountain tops with sovereigneye,
		Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
		Gilding pale streams with heavenly alcumy,
		Anon permit the basest clouds toride
		With ugly rack on his celestial face,
		And from the forlorn world his visage hide,
		Stealing unseen towest with this disgrace:
		Even so my sun one early morn did shine
		With all triumphant splendor on my brow;
		But out alack, he was but one hour mine,
		The region cloud hath masked him from menow.
		Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth:
		Suns ofthe world may stain, when heavens sun staineth.

        1  .

      ,  ,   , ,     񻠖 But out alack, he was but one hour mine,    The region cloud hath masked him from me now.

,    21    ࠖ    33.

   33頖  .




34


 ,   2136,        蠖 Ah, but those tears are pearl which thy love sheeds.

 ,        ,    -     ?  , -      .   ,    ,        .

  ,          22, 2728. ,    ,   .

		 34.  
		Why didst thou promise such abeauteousday,
		And make me travel forth without my cloak,
		Tolet base clouds oertake me inmyway,
		Hiding thy bravry intheir rotten smoke?
		Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break,
		Todry the rain on my storm-beaten face,
		For no man well ofsuch asalve can speak,
		That heals the wound, and cures not the disgrace:
		Nor can thy shame give physic tomy grief;
		Though thou repent, yet Ihave still the loss:
		Thoffenders sorrow lends but weak relief
		Tohim that bears the strong offences cross.
		Ah, but those tears are pearl which thy love sheeds,
		And they are rich and ransom all ill deeds.

 ,      34  ,   30      3739,  ,        ,       ࠖ  .

 ,    , -, .

     34  40.




35


  -  ⻠ All men make faults,  34.

		 35.  
		No more be grieved at that which thou hast done:
		Roses have thorns, and silver fountainsmud,
		Clouds and eclipses stain both moon andsun,
		And loathsome canker lives insweetestbud.
		All men make faults, and even Iinthis,
		Authorizing thy trespass with compare,
		Myself corrupting salving thy amiss,
		Excusing thy sins more than their sinsare;
		For tothy sensual fault Ibring insense
		Thy adverse party is thy advocate
		And gainst myself alawful plea commence:
		Such civil war is inmy love andhate
		That Ian accessary needs mustbe
		Tothat sweet thief which sourly robs fromme.

   . Ƞ ,  ,  ,       .

,  頖  .




36


    .

		 36.  
		Let me confess that we two must be twain,
		Although our undivided loves areone:
		So shall those blots that do with me remain,
		Without thy help, byme be borne alone.
		Inour two loves there is but one respect,
		Though inour lives aseparable spite,
		Which though it alter not loves sole effect,
		Yet doth it steal sweet hours from loves delight.
		Imay not evermore acknowledge thee,
		Lest my bewailed guilt should do thee shame,
		Nor thou with public kindness honourme,
		Unless thou take that honour from thy name
		But do not so; Ilove thee insuch sort,
		As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.

 ,      ,    Though inour lives aseparable spite,  , ..    .

           39.

      Yet doth it steal sweet hours from loves delight    ,   ,   20,   .

      36   ,   Imay not evermore acknowledge thee       .

,    ,    ,    ,         .

,      .

            .

  36   ⠫  96. Ƞ   . ,    ,       ,    .

   3  .  96      .

,   36      2136  



 ,  ꠖ       ࠖ      2136.

   , ,   , .

,    .                 .

          .      1820,      3742




 5.  3742.  


    3742,    ࠖ  .

   ,           ,    (2136),  , ..   .

    ⠫    ,     绠         ⠫    .

   3742   ,  .

 ( )        .

  3742   ,  ,  .        2136,  3742,    37   2136.

 ,   37      3742  , ,     2136.




37


     ? , ,   ,       ,.

      ( 31)      . Ƞ   ,     , , , ,      For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit, Or any ofthese all, or all, or more,    ,      .  ,        21.   ,     21 :  ,    ?,    ?  ,            ()  ,   ,      21.

   (    ) ,      .  .

,  蠖   .   ,     3637,   ,     .

		 37.  
		As adecrepit father takes delight
		Tosee his active child do deeds ofyouth,
		So I, made lame byFortunes dearest spite,
		Take all my comfort ofthy worth and truth;
		For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, orwit,
		Or any ofthese all, or all, or more,
		Intitled inthy parts, do crownedsit,
		Imake my love ingrafted tothis store:
		So then Iam not lame, poor, nor despised,
		Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give,
		That Iinthy abundance am sufficed,
		And byapart ofall thy glory live:
		Look what is best, that best Iwish inthee;
		This wish Ihave, then ten times happyme.

       37,       39.      ࠖ And byapart ofall thy glory live ( 37)     ( 39),  젖  .

   .        ,   ?   ?




38


     , ,   18    : ,      ,   ,  蠖 And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth Eternal numbers tooutlive long date.

  ,     , ,   22,    18  .

,    38, ,  ,   22,     2136, ,  ,    1820.   ,    1838  .

 ,     37  ,     :        頖 that pourst into my verse Thine own sweet argument, .

  ,  ,   ,   :   ,  頖 The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.

  ,    ,  37.

		 38.  
		How can my Muse want subject toinvent
		While thou dost breathe, that pourst into my verse
		Thine own sweet argument, too excellent
		For every vulgar paper torehearse?
		Πgive thyself the thanks if aught inme
		Worthy perusal stand against thy sight,
		For whos so dumb that cannot write tothee,
		When thou thyself dost give invention light?
		Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more inworth
		Than those old nine which rhymers invocate,
		And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth
		Eternal numbers tooutlive long date.
		If my slight Muse do please these curious days,
		The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.

        :    Be thou the tenth Muse.

 ,    . ,       ,   .

           ,       , , , .         .




39


   (堖  36)   :     Even for this, let us divided live.

  ,   ? , !   !   ,   ?  !       ( 36),      .

 ,      !

,    ࠖ  ( 36),   ࠖ . ,   ,     ( 39).       ():         Πhow thy worth with manners may Ising,  36     , ..    .   ,   36 ,  39 .

  39     37,        , 젖    thou art all the better part ofme,      .   39, ,   37,    ,  .    2136,   ,      ,  ,         3739.

      20,        .   39,     ,         :      ,     That bythis separation Imay give That due tothee which thou deservest alone.

		 39.  
		Πhow thy worth with manners may Ising,
		When thou art all the better part ofme?
		What can mine own praise tomine own self bring?
		And what ist but mine own when Ipraise thee?
		Even for this, let us divided live,
		And our dear love lose name ofsingleone,
		That bythis separation Imaygive
		That due tothee which thou deservst alone.
		Πabsence, what atorment wouldst thou prove,
		Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave
		Toentertain the time with thoughts oflove,
		Which time and thoughts so sweetly doth deceive,
		And that thou teachest how tomake one twain,
		Bypraising him here who doth hence remain.

 39    ,   20,        .




40


    ࠖ .

      Icannot blame thee for my love thou usest   .

		 40.  
		Take all my loves, my love, yea, take themall;
		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,
		Icannot blame thee for my love thou usest;
		But yet be blamed, if thou thyself deceivest
		Bywilful taste ofwhat thyself refusest.
		Ido forgive thy robbry, gentle thief,
		Although thou steal thee all my poverty;
		And yet love knows it is agreater grief
		Tobear loves wrong than hates known injury.
		Lascivious grace, inwhom all ill well shows,
		Kill me with spites, yet we must not be foes.

,   ࠖ  ,    ,       : ,     ,    렖 No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call All mine was thine before thou hadst this more,    .

,    ࠖ    ࠖ Although thou steal thee all my poverty.

  ,      34. ,     ,        堖      .

  34      .   40  ,     ,   젖 Kill me with spites, yet we must not be foes.

,      ( 34),  . Ƞ ࠖ ,   40  .

,   40,        34  .




41


   ,        And when awoman woos, what womans son Will sourly leave her till he have prevailed.

   ,      : , ,   堖 When Iam sometime absent from thy heart.          ,  40.

		 41.  
		Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits,
		When Iam sometime absent from thy heart,
		Thy beauty and thy years full well befits,
		For still temptation follows where thouart.
		Gentle thou art, and therefore tobewon,
		Beauteous thou art, therefore tobe assailed;
		And when awoman woos, what womansson
		Will sourly leave her till he have prevailed?
		Ay me, but yet thou mightest my seat forbear,
		And chide thy beauty and thy straying youth,
		Who lead thee intheir riot even there
		Where thou art forced tobreak atwofold truth:
		Hers, bythy beauty tempting her tothee,
		Thine, bythy beauty being false tome.




42


    :   ,   , , ,    렖 That thou hast her, it is not all my grief, And yet it may be said Iloved her dearly.

   .

        3739:      my friend and Iare one,    .

		 42.  
		That thou hast her, it is not all my grief,
		And yet it may be said Iloved her dearly;
		That she hath thee, is ofmy wailing chief,
		Aloss inlove that touches me more nearly.
		Loving offenders, thus Iwill excuseye:
		Thou dost love her because thou knowst Iloveher,
		And for my sake even so doth she abuseme,
		Suff ring my friend for my sake toapproveher.
		If Ilose thee, my loss is my loves gain,
		And losing her, my friend hath found that loss;
		Both find each other, and Ilose both twain,
		And both for my sake lay on me this cross.
		But heres the joy, my friend and Iareone.
		Sweet flattery! then she loves but me alone.

  42    -  .   , , , ,      :   ,    Both find each other, and Ilose both twain.

  ,  ,      34,  ,        34. Ƞ  ,        .

,            .

Ƞ     ,   ,  ,         .

             :    ,   ,  ,   렖 That she hath thee, is ofmy wailing chief, Aloss inlove that touches me more nearly.

,   ,    ,   2039,    ,  .

          . Ƞ  ,     ,   ,       .

      ,     ࠫ .  ,         .          .



   3742    ,  ,    .

 ,     ( )    1820 3742.           ,          ,   21.

,     ,     ,      .

 ,      ,       .

    , ,      ,   , ..   ,        .

           4352.




 6.  4352. , 


    4352,    ࠖ  . : ,   ,   .

  4352 ,         .

  4352   ,  ,  .        3742,  4352,  ,  43,       3742.  ,   43      4352  , ,     3742.




43


   42 , .

    :    For all the day they view things unrespected, 蠫    But when Isleep, indreams they look on thee .

  42 ,   ,       .

,   , ,   ,  43 .  ,    ⠫ 蠫,       砫  .

Ƞ,  ,   :  ,  頖 thy fair imperfect shade.         .

-, ,  ,    ,    37,  ,  ,  38  ,  39    .

  ,   ,    .

-,         ,   ,    39,          .

-,        42,       ,   .

-,        ,     ,       頖  .

,  ,    39,        ,     2136,          .

-, ,          21  , ..    .

		 43.  
		When most Iwink, then do mine eyes bestsee,
		For all the day they view things unrespected;
		But when Isleep, indreams they look on thee,
		And darkly bright, are bright indark directed.
		Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,
		How would thy shadows form form happyshow
		Tothe clear day with thy much clearer light,
		When tounseeing eyes thy shade shinesso!
		How would (Isay) mine eyes be blessed made,
		Bylooking on thee inthe livingday,
		When indead night thy fair imperfect shade
		Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!
		All days are nights tosee till Isee thee,
		And nights bright days when dreams do show theeme.

 ,   43  2728    ,        .       ,        2136.

,   ,  43 4            .




44


,   43,  ,        :     Injurious distance should not stop my way, ,  頖 As soon as think the place where he would be,  堖 From limits far remote, where thou dost stay,    Toleap large lengths ofmiles,    Imust attend times leisure with my moan,    ,    .

		 44.  
		If the dull substance ofmy flesh were thought,
		Injurious distance should not stop myway,
		For then despite ofspace Iwould be brought,
		From limits far remote, where thou dost stay.
		No matter then although my foot did stand
		Upon the farthest earth removed from thee,
		For nimble thought can jump both sea andland
		As soon as think the place where he wouldbe.
		But ah, thought kills me that Iam not thought,
		Toleap large lengths ofmiles when thou art gone,
		But that, so much ofearth and water wrought,
		Imust attend times leisure with my moan,
		Receiving nought byelements soslow
		But heavy tears, badges ofeitherswoe.

  , ..     43.

   .

   , ,     34,   .

         ,    21.




45


       .     44  :  ,    렖 Are both with thee, wherever Iabide.

		 45.  
		The other two, slight air and purging fire,
		Are both with thee, wherever Iabide;
		The first my thought, the other my desire,
		These present-absent with swift motion slide;
		For when these quicker elements aregone
		Intender embassy oflove tothee,
		My life, being made offour, with two alone
		Sinks down todeath, oppressed with melancholy,
		Until lifes composition be recured
		Bythose swift messengers returned from thee,
		Who even but now come back again assured
		Ofthy fair health, recounting it tome.
		This told, Ijoy, but then no longer glad,
		Isend them back again and straight growsad.

   , ,     .

 ,     젖  ࠫ堖 the other my desire   ࠫ  蠖 Intender embassy oflove tothee,      ,   ,    (.   20).

      39,     , ,   :  ,  ,    ,  頖 My life, being made offour, with two alone Sinks down todeath, oppressed with melancholy.




46


   ,    :     ,     砖 Mine eye and heart are at amortal war, How todivide the conquest ofthy sight.

, ,     .  ,     ? ,    ,  ,        ,  .      .

		 46.  
		Mine eye and heart are at amortalwar,
		How todivide the conquest ofthy sight:
		Mine eye my heart thy pictures sight wouldbar,
		My heart mine eye the freedom ofthat right.
		My heart doth plead that thou inhim dostlie
		(Acloset never pierced with crystal eyes),
		But the defendant doth that plea deny,
		And says inhim thy fair appearance lies.
		Totide this title is impanneled
		Aquest ofthoughts, all tenants tothe heart,
		And bytheir verdict is determined
		The clear eyes moiety and the dear hearts part:
		As thus: mine eyes due is thy outward part,
		And my hearts right thy inward love ofheart.

   47  ,   砖  .

,   ,       45.

, ,    ,   . ,  , :  ꠖ   砖 mine eyes due is thy outward part,  , ,  ,  .

     ,     ,      Aquest ofthoughts, all tenants tothe heart, ..    , , ,  ໠   ,   .

,  ,     ,     46. ,   ,  21   ,    , 젖  蠫 .

 ,  , -,  ,   .




47


 -   .

Ƞ   ,      :   頖 With my loves picture. ,        46, ,  47, .  ,   47  4445     :      頖 For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move.

,  ,  񸠖 , , 蠖     ,  .

,   ,  , ..    .

		 47.  
		Betwixt mine eye and heart aleague is took,
		And each doth good turns now unto the other:
		When that mine eye is famished for alook,
		Or heart inlove with sighs himself doth smother,
		With my loves picture then my eye doth feast,
		And tothe painted banquet bids my heart;
		Another time mine eye is my hearts guest,
		And inhis thoughts oflove doth share apart.
		So either bythy picture or my love,
		Thyself, away, art present still withme,
		For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move,
		And Iam still with them, and they with thee;
		Or if they sleep, thy picture inmy sight
		Awakes my heart tohearts and eyes delight.

    ࠖ then my eye doth feast,   , ..    ,    ,  .

 ,     ,  ,    ,    , ..  , ?          .

    ,   ,      ,  .       堖   24     ,  46      ,  35      .

     ,   ,      ,   ,      ,  , .

Ƞ,     21,    ,     ,    .

,      ,      ,   ,      .

    ,    ,  ,    .




48


  , ..      .

   ,    :   How careful was I, when Itook my way,  :    Thee have Inot locked up inany chest.

 ࠫ,  ,  ࠫ  堖 ,    ,    ?

		 48.  
		How careful was I, when Itook myway,
		Each trifle under truest bars tothrust,
		That tomy use it might un-usedstay
		From hands offalsehood, insure wards oftrust!
		But thou, towhom my jewels triflesare,
		Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief,
		Thou best ofdearest, and mine only care,
		Art left the prey ofevery vulgar thief.
		Thee have Inot locked up inany chest,
		Save where thou art not, though Ifeel thouart,
		Within the gentle closure ofmy breast,
		From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part;
		And even thence thou wilt be stoln, Ifear,
		For truth proves thievish for aprize so dear.

,   ,    .

 ,    ⠫ 蠖 Within the gentle closure ofmy breast    , ..       . ʠ        ,   . Ƞ          , ..   -   ,     ,    , ,   ,    .

 ,     ,       ()  .




49


    ,     ,   -  :       When Ishall see thee frown on my defects.

		 49.  
		Against that time (if ever that time come)
		When Ishall see thee frown on my defects,
		When as thy love hath cast his utmostsum,
		Called tothat audit byadvised respects;
		Against that time when thou shalt strangely pass,
		And scarcely greet me with that sun, thineeye,
		When love, converted from the thing itwas
		Shall reasons find ofsettled gravity:
		Against that time do Iinsconce mehere
		Within the knowledge ofmine own desert,
		And this my hand against myself uprear,
		Toguard the lawful reasons on thy part.
		Toleave poor me thou hast the strength oflaws,
		Since why tolove Ican allege no cause.

        .

   ,    頖  .

 ,     .




50


,   30,    friend:     () Thus far the miles are measured from thy friend.

      30 ,   ,    , 蠫. ,  ,  , ,  ,     .

,  50,    ,      , ,  ,   .

     50  friend?

   ,    51  ,   50, , ,  .

    ,    .

  51      :     .        51(    )  ,    50(  Plods dully).

, ,   5051  .     , , ,  50 ?

,   ,  ,   50  .            50   ?

         .    ,           ,      50      .

        ,      ,      .

		 50.  
		How heavy do Ijourney on theway,
		When what Iseek (my weary travelsend)
		Doth teach that ease and that repose tosay,
		Thus far the miles are measured from thy friend.
		The beast that bears me, tired with mywoe,
		Plods dully on, tobear that weight inme,
		As if bysome instinct the wretch didknow
		His rider loved not speed, being made from thee:
		The bloody spur cannot provoke himon
		That sometimes anger thrusts into his hide,
		Which heavily he answers with agroan
		More sharp tome than spurring tohis side;
		For that same groan doth put this inmy mind:
		My grief lies onward and my joy behind.

             5051 .        friend  ,    , ,       .

       5051     51.      ,      .            .




51


       ,   .

,        ,    . ,      ,     .

,      126,   ,            .

Ƞ   ,       .   1011Therefore desire (ofperfectst love being made) shall neigh (no dull flesh) inhis fiery race      ( )  _ _*  . *_ _       .

  .      3,        .

 ,   ,   ,   .    .   20,        ,    51.

  ,   .       .

		 51.  
		Thus can my love excuse the slow offence
		Ofmy dull bearer, when from thee Ispeed:
		From where thou art, why should Ihaste me thence?
		Till Ireturn, ofposting is no need.
		Πwhat excuse will my poor beast then find,
		When swift extremity can seem but slow?
		Then should Ispur though mounted on the wind,
		Inwinged speed no motion shall Iknow:
		Then can no horse with my desire keep pace;
		Therefore desire (ofperfectst love being made)
		Shall neigh (no dull flesh) inhis fiery race,
		But love, for love, thus shall excuse my jade:
		Since from thee going he went wilful slow,
		Towards thee Ill ran and give him leave togo.

,         52.        堖   .

    ,        :  ,   .     51   .

  50   51,    ,     , ..  ࠖ Since from thee going he went wilful slow.

       friend    50,  30.  ,    ⠫    .

 ,     ,      4352  .




52


 ,    ,    . , , ,     .

      ,      .

   ,    :  ,     Blessed are you whose worthiness gives scope.     .

      ࠖ    ,  .     ࠖ    .  ,     ( 39)    .

		 52.  
		So am Ias the rich whose blessedkey
		Can bring him tohis sweet up-locked treasure,
		The which he will not evry hour survey,
		For blunting the fine point ofseldom pleasure.
		Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare,
		Since, seldom coming, inthe long yearset,
		Like stones ofworth they thinly placedare,
		Or captain jewels inthe carcanet.
		So is the time that keeps you as my chest,
		Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide,
		Tomake some special instant special blest,
		Bynew unfolding his imprisoned pride.
		Blessed are you whose worthiness gives scope,
		Being had, totriumph, being lacked, tohope.

        :       ,    .     ,     4352.



   4352      ( 46, 47),       2136.

Ƞ    4352   , ,     .  ,         堖       ,   ,   .

,      ,      .

   (.   42)    ,  , ,         .

         ,  ,  .

,  ,   ,              .

     ,   .       ,     .

 ,     . ,      .



 ,           ,  ,  ,     (127154) -   .

    52-     ,          ,  ࠖ ,      20.

 ,          .

,  53  ,   ,   ,   .




 7.  5355.  


    5355,    ࠖ  .    .   5355 ,         .

  5355   ,  ,  .        4352,  5355,  ,  53,       4352.

 ,   53      5355  , ,     4352.




53


,    ,   .

    ( )  .

		 53.  
		What is your substance, whereof are you made,
		That millions ofstrange shadows on you tend,
		Since every one hath, every one, one shade,
		And you, but one, can every shadow lend?
		Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit
		Is poorly imitated afteryou;
		On Helens cheek all art ofbeautyset,
		And you inGrecian tires are paintednew;
		Speak ofthe spring and foison oftheyear
		The one doth shadow ofyour beauty show,
		The other as your bounty doth appear,
		And you inevery blessed shape we know.
		Inall external grace you have some part,
		But you like none, none you, for constant heart.

    ,     4  ,   ,    , ..  ,   .

,      ,      2124,       ,      .

          ,       54.



  ,    ,      ,    ( ) -    ?

   ,           蠖     ,  堖      .      ,    ,       ,      ,        ,   ,      ,  .    ,         .       ,    ,  ,  蠖         .          ,  ,   .      ,   (    ),           ⠖  .    ,        :      .

            ,            ,      . Ƞ       젖   ,        .

     , ,            ,    ,         - ,  ,   .

   126-     28-  .        ,         .

   ,         .

   ,         ,         ,    ,      .      ,   ,    .

 ,    ,    , ..  ,  ,     .           .  ,            .

      , ,     ,    , , ,     - ,   .            .

,       ? , ,  , ,   ,          ,      ?     .      ,         .

       ( 1126 , 127154 )     .       ,    ,     ,     . ,      ,   ,  , ,         ?

 ,   ,      ,    ,    ,    .

        , ,   ,          .     ,       .          ,     .

      60-,        ,         ,         60    ,   ,   ,    .

 ,  ,   60- ,  -,   ,      , .

  ,        ,       .    頖  , ,  ,   .



,  ,   53  .  ?     ?      ,      .   ࠖ But you like none, none you, for constant heart.        .       ,        ( 42). , ,  ,   ,         . ࠖ ,     .

   54    ,   蠖   18  .




54


     lovely youth  .

		 54.  
		Πhow much more doth beauty beauteousseem
		Bythat sweet ornament which truth doth give!
		The rose looks fair, but fairer we itdeem
		For that sweet odour which doth init live.
		The canker blooms have full as deep adye
		As the perfumed tincture ofthe roses,
		Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly,
		When summers breath their masked buds discloses;
		But, for their virtue only is their show,
		They live unwooed, and unrespected fade,
		Die tothemselves. Sweet roses do notso,
		Oftheir sweet deaths are sweetest odours made:
		And so ofyou, beauteous and lovely youth,
		When that shall vade, byverse distils your truth.

    53,       53 .       .       18,     ,      ,  .

     ,     堖  堫, ࠫ. Ƞ        .




55


       :     젖 But you shall shine more bright inthese contents.    55       5355.  .  .

		 55.  
		Not marble nor the gilded monuments
		Ofprinces shall outlive this powrful rhyme,
		But you shall shine more bright inthese contents
		Than unswept stone, besmeared with sluttish time.
		When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
		And broils root out the work ofmasonry,
		Nor Mars his sword nor wars quick fire shallburn
		The living record ofyour memory.
		Gainst death and all oblivious enmity
		Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still findroom
		Even inthe eyes ofall posterity
		That wear this world out tothe ending doom.
		So, till the Judgement that yourself arise,
		You live inthis, and dwell inlovers eyes.

  ,        . ,     , ,  16- ,    , ,         .       ,    , .. ,     ,  .

      .                     , .

,   ,        .

               ,   ,           . ,     ,      .



,       . ,    .

        .      ,   ,    ,   ,    .

 ,  ,  ,   .      . ,  , , ,   ,  ,   ,  .

    ,        .

  堖  : ,   ( ), ,    ( ), ,   ()     ,     (   ),  ,  󻠖 ,  堫, ࠫ,    .

  (堖 ),    ,   ,    蠖       .       ,       ,   .



     ,    .   ,    :  , , ,    ,     ,   ,    .        :       , ..      ,       .  ,        ໠     蠫, 蠫 黠   ,       .

,     ,   ,  .

             , ..   .

Ƞ      ,          , . .  ,  堖 蠫 ,  , 蠫 ,  

      ,     ,    堖   (),       ()      堖    () ,    ()   - .

   堖  ,    ,            ,     .



   5355 ,  ,  ,    .

     .

   56   .




 8.  5661.  


    5661,    ࠖ  .   5661 ,         .

  5661   ,  ,  .        5355,  5661,    56,       5355     .  ,   56      5661  , ,     5355.




56


   56,    20.   蠖 Sweet love    :    頖 Tomorrow sharpned inhis former might,      and do not kill The spirit oflove with aperpetual dullness     .

		 56.  
		Sweet love, renew thy force, be it notsaid
		Thy edge should blunter be than appetite,
		Which but today byfeeding is allayed,
		Tomorrow sharpned inhis former might.
		So, love, be thou: although today thoufill
		Thy hungry eyes even till they wink with fullness,
		Tomorrow see again, and do notkill
		The spirit oflove with aperpetual dullness:
		Let this sad intrim like the oceanbe
		Which parts the shore, where two contractednew
		Come daily tothe banks, that when theysee
		Return oflove, more blest may be the view;
		As call it winter, which being full ofcare,
		Makes summers welcome, thrice more wished, more rare.

 ,      . ,  4  ,   . ,      ,    ,      , ,   蠫.   ,  , ,  ,     .

,      ,    ,     ,  頖  .      52,   ,    , ..    .

 ,        ,      .

     .

Ƞ,      ࠖ   ,        ,   Let this sad intrim like the ocean be,     Makes summers welcome, thrice more wished, more rare.



  ,     56,   ,      .

 ,  5355   , , ,  , ,  ,  .

  ,       ,     ,     , , ࠖ .       , ,   ,     ,        .

Ƞ, ,             .

  ,       ,      .

 , ,    , ,      .

      ,        .

   ,  ,   ,  , .. ,    , ,       53,      ,      .

 ,      ,   ,   ,          .  ,       ,  .

 堖 ,  :

1. ,  ;

2.     .

     젖 , , , , ,       ,      ,   ,        ,      , , .




57


   .

   56.   57    56,     .

      ,     .

		 57.  
		Being your slave, what should Ido buttend
		Upon the hours and times ofyour desire?
		Ihave no precious time at all tospend,
		Nor services todo till you require.
		Nor dare Ichide the world-without-endhour
		Whilst I(my sovereign) watch the clock foryou,
		Nor think the bitterness ofabsencesour
		When you have bid your servant once adieu.
		Nor dare Iquestion with my jealous thought
		Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
		But like asad slave stay and think ofnought
		Save where you are how happy you make those.
		So true afool is love that inyourwill
		(Though you do any thing) he thinks noill.

     ,  .    .   ,    ,       :        ,  ,   젖 But like asad slave stay and think ofnought Save where you are how happy you make those.

  57   26,      ࠫ Being your slave (57)  .

    ,    1  .

     56,       ,   ,        .

         .

    , , 133.

      ,    , , 87.




58


    ,   57, ,    ,   .

    :  ,    䠖 Iam towait, though waiting so be hell.

		 58.  
		That god forbid, that made me first your slave,
		Ishould inthought control your time ofpleasure,
		Or at your hand thaccount ofhours tocrave,
		Being your vassal bound tostay your leasure.
		Πlet me suffer (being at your beck)
		Thimprisoned absence ofyour liberty,
		And patience, tame tosufferance, bide each check,
		Without accusing you ofinjury.
		Be where you list, your charter is so strong
		That you yourself may priviledge yourtime
		Towhat you will; toyou it doth belong
		Yourself topardon ofself-doing crime.
		Iam towait, though waiting so be hell,
		Not blame your pleasure, be it ill or well.

   . .

 堖  .




59


  .         .

  ,        :     젖 Tosubjects worse have given admiring praise.

       68,       .

		 59.  
		If there be nothing new, but that whichis
		Hath been before, how are our brains beguiled,
		Which, labouring for invention, bear amiss
		The second burthen ofaformer child!
		Πthat record could with abackward look,
		Even offive hundred courses ofthesun,
		Show me your image insome antique book,
		Since mind at first incharacter was done,
		That Imight see what the old world couldsay
		Tothis composed wonder ofyour frame:
		Whether we are mended, or wheer better they,
		Or whether revolution be the same.
		Πsure Iam the wits offormerdays
		Tosubjects worse have given admiring praise.

  59 ,  . ,     ,         , .. ,     .

,  ,   廠   :     젖 Tothis composed wonder ofyour frame,     ,   .  ,      ,      ,  , ⠫  21,  -      ,  24,      , , ,     ,       ,    .

    ,  , - ,         ( 20)    .    59,  ,   .

         ,      ,     ,       .  ,   ,    堖 If there be nothing new, but that which is          ,        ,    .

      ,      ,      堖 ,    .

  ,   21      ,    .




60


  60  ,   .  ,     .

    59, ,     ,     ⠖  .

		 60.  
		Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
		So do our minutes hasten totheirend,
		Each changing place with that which goes before,
		Insequent toil all forwards do contend.
		Nativity, once inthe main oflight,
		Crawls tomaturity, wherewith being crowned,
		Crooked eclipses gainst his glory fight,
		And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.
		Time does transfix the flourish set on youth.
		And delves the parallels inbeautys brow,
		Feeds on the rarities ofnatures truth,
		And nothing stands but for his scythe tomow.
		And yet totimes inhope my verse shall stand,
		Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

,   ,    ,     ,    .

    , ,  ,  . Ƞ  ,    ,      ,   60           .

,    ,   59   .     60  59,  , ,           .

       ,     .

,    5( ) 54( ),    軠  15( ),   軠  2( ) 19( ),  ໠  2,   軠  12( ),     18, 19, 54, 55(,  ).

 ,  ,     ,    ,    ,  ,        ,    60.     ?

      . ,  ,    ,   .        59.      60 59    .

         , ..  ,  砫       13.

,   ,  1   ,       .   ,   ,    ,   ,  ,  ?  !

,    ?  !        3.  ,      ,     .     , ..    ,     ,     .                .

     ,       ,    ,     .

        ,   ,      .

    ,      렖  .

Ƞ    3   ,   59,  蠖   ,      .

 ,      60 :

1.    .

2.     .

      60  .




61


  ,  .

        .

       27,28,43,  .     :         堖 Is it thy will thy image should keep open My heavy eyelids tothe weary night, ,  1  ,  蠖    .

          ,    .

		 61.  
		Is it thy will thy image should keepopen
		My heavy eyelids tothe weary night?
		Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken,
		While shadows like tothee do mock my sight?
		Is it thy spirit that thou sendst fromthee
		So far from home into my deeds topry,
		Tofind out shames and idle hours inme,
		The scope and tenure ofthy jealousy?
		Πno, thy love, though much, is not so great;
		It is my love that keeps mine eye awake,
		Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,
		Toplay the watchman ever for thy sake.
		For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,
		From me far off, with others all too near.

   ,      :   ,     ,  ,    For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere, From me far off, with others all too near.

       .          ,   .



    5661,    ,  ,      .   ,       ?         6268




 9.  6268.   


,      ,    堖 ,    5, 19, 25, 33, 56,   6268  .

,    ,     ,   . ,      .              .

       ,      , , ,   .     , , ,  ,  , -,      . ,    ,  ,  -,   .

          ,  ,    ,        .




62


   ,      .

		 62.  
		Sin ofself-love possesseth all mineeye,
		And all my soul, and all my every part;
		And for this sin there is no remedy,
		It is so grounded inward inmy heart.
		Methinks no face so gracious is as mine,
		No shape so true, no truth ofsuch account,
		And for myself mine own worth do define,
		As Iall other inall worths surmount.
		But when my glass shows me myself indeed,
		Beated and chopped with tanned antiquity,
		Mine own self-love quite contrary Iread;
		Self so self-loving were iniquity.
		Tis thee (my self) that for myself Ipraise,
		Painting my age with beauty ofthy days.

,       ,          .      :   ࠖ  , 頖   堖 Tis thee (my self) that for myself Ipraise, Painting my age with beauty ofthy days.

 ,  ,    3739     , 42     ,  .

   , , ,     (35,57,58)      , .

       5661, ,   .

    ,   ,   ࠖ   .     ?   ,   ,     ,    ? 蠖        ?  ,   ,         ,      ?       ,    .

       .      ,      .      ,   100%  , , ,  ,       ࠖ    ,   ࠖ  .

   ,     6268  ,   ,  .             ,    ,    62   6268           ࠖ  .




63


    .

    (his)   ,   .   ,   栖  .      my love,     ,  .      ,       20, 3942      .

		 63.  
		Against my love shall be as Iamnow,
		With Times injurious hand crushed and oerworn;
		When hours have drained his blood and filled hisbrow
		With lines and wrinkles; when his youthfulmorn
		Hath travelled on toages steepy night,
		And all those beauties whereof now hesking
		Are vanishing, or vanished out ofsight,
		Stealing away the treasure ofhis spring:
		For such atime do Inow fortify
		Against confounding ages cruel knife
		That he shall never cut from memory
		My sweet loves beauty, though my lovers life.
		His beauty shall inthese black lines be seen,
		And they shall live, and he inthem still green.

   ࠖ  ,  ,      ,   (,  18,55).

      .

 ,        ,    , ,       .    ,   , , , ,   .      .    ? , .

  ,       ,      . Ƞ     62,   ?




64


  12        When Ihave seen byTimes fell hand defaced.

    63,    .   64   ,    .

-   64    .     .

		 64.  
		When Ihave seen byTimes fell hand defaced
		The rich proud cost ofoutworn buriedage;
		When sometime lofty towers Isee down rased,
		And brass eternal slave tomortal rage;
		When Ihave seen the hungry oceangain
		Advantage on the kingdom ofthe shore,
		And the firm soil win ofthe watry main,
		Increasing store with loss, and loss with store;
		When Ihave seen such interchange ofstate,
		Or state itself confounded todecay,
		Ruin hath taught me thus toruminate:
		That Time will come and take my love away.
		This thought is as adeath, which cannot choose
		But weep tohave that which it fears tolose.

, ,  ,    ,   , ,     12, ..  .

,   ,  12    ,    컠  .

 64, ,   ,     蠫 :  ,  ,   But weep tohave that which it fears tolose.     64  ,   64     , ,   .




65


   .

     .    ,   64.     .

      .           :  ( 17 ),  ( 18  , 19 , 54    , 55  ),  ( 60,  ).

   65  .

		 65.  
		Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundlesssea,
		But sad mortality oersways their power,
		How with this rage shall beauty hold aplea,
		Whose action is no stronger than aflower?
		Πhow shall summers honey breath holdout
		Against the wrackful siege ofbattring days,
		When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
		Nor gates ofsteel so strong, but Time decays?
		Πfearful meditation! Where, alack,
		Shall Times best jewel from Times chest liehid?
		Or what strong hand can hold this swift foot back,
		Or who his spoil ofbeauty can forbid?
		Πnone, unless this miracle have might,
		That inblack ink my love may still shine bright.

,  65,   , , ,        ,    Πnone, unless this miracle have might, That inblack ink my love may still shine bright.     65  ,     my love  -,   ,   (       ), ,    , ..  . ࠖ     .




66


   , ..   .     .

     , ,     .      ,       ,    ,    .

         ,        .  .

,           (..  )   ,       . ,        .

ʠ     ,      ,  ,      .

		 66.  
		Tired with all these, for restful death Icry:
		As tobehold desert abeggar born,
		And needy nothing trimmed injollity,
		And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
		And gilded honour shamefully misplaced,
		And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
		And right perfection wrongfully disgraced,
		And strength bylimping sway disabled,
		And art made tongue-tied byauthority,
		And folly (doctor-like) controlling skill,
		And simple truth miscalled simplicity,
		And captive good attending captainill:
		Tired with all these, from these would Ihe gone,
		Save that, todie, Ileave my love alone.

,    ,  ,   ,  65 , ,   ,       .    66  ,   ,       -,      ,  ,      .




67


       3- .

,   栖  ,     ,  ࠫ :      ࠖ since his rose is true,     54.

 ,    ,  ,     .

   頖   ,    .

  67    66,       .

,  67,    ,   ,  ࠖ  ,     ,      ,       ,      .

           .     ,     ,  :   ,   蠖 Πhim she stores, toshow what wealth she had, Indays long since. 㠖   .

       68,       .

		 67.  
		Ah wherefore with infection should he live,
		And with his presence grace impiety,
		That sin byhim advantage should achieve,
		And lace itself with his society?
		Why should false painting imitate his cheek,
		And steal dead seeming ofhis livinghue?
		Why should poor beauty indirectlyseek
		Roses ofshadow, since his rose is true?
		Why should he live, now Nature bankruptis,
		Beggared ofblood toblush through lively veins,
		For she hath no exchequer now buthis,
		And proud ofmany, lives upon his gains?
		Πhim she stores, toshow what wealth shehad,
		Indays long since, before these last sobad.




68


     ,  67.

		 68.  
		Thus is his cheek the map ofdays outworn,
		When beauty lived and died as flowers donow,
		Before these bastard signs offair were borne,
		Or durst inhabit on aliving brow;
		Before the golden tresses ofthe dead,
		The right ofsepulchres, were shorn away,
		Tolive asecond life on second head;
		Ere beautys dead fleece made anothergay:
		Inhim those holy antique hours are seen,
		Without all ornament, itself and true,
		Making no summer ofanothers green,
		Robbing no old todress his beautynew;
		And him as for amap doth Nature store,
		Toshow false Art what beauty was ofyore.

    ࠖ      :     ࠖ Thus is his cheek the map ofdays outworn.

     67,       .  ,  ⠫  59    . Ƞ    , .

   5968     , ࠫ廠    180.

  59   ,     .

  68, , ,              ࠖ Inhim those holy antique hours are seen.



 ,        .

,    68   ,         59  .



,  ,      6268    .

    ,  , 蠫 ࠖ    ⠖  .

,    ,   ,      .

  젖         ? ,     ,  .            .




 10.  6970.  


  6970    ,     6268    .

      .      ,         .

      ,           .

   6268  6970,         ,    6268     6970.




69


    ,     67.     , ,   .  ,    67   69,   .      (),  ,   ,  ,  ,        :  ,  ,    But those same tongues that give thee so thine own, Inother accents do this praise confound. ,    ,   .

Ƞ   ,         ,   ,   .

,   .      ,   . , ,       - .

 ,     ,       .       70,        ,  .

		 69.  
		Those parts ofthee that the worlds eye dothview
		Want nothing that the thought ofhearts can mend;
		All tongues (the voice ofsouls) give thee thatdue,
		Uttring bare truth, even so as foes commend,
		Thy outward thus with outward praise is crowned,
		But those same tongues that give thee so thineown,
		Inother accents do this praise confound
		Byseeing farther than the eye hath shown.
		They look into the beauty ofthy mind,
		And that inguess they measure bythy deeds;
		Then, churls, their thoughts (although their eyes were kind)
		Tothy fair flower add the rank smell ofweeds:
		But why thy odour matcheth not thy show,
		The soil is this, that thou dost common grow.




70


     69,             堖        For slanders mark was ever yet the fair,  ࠖ    And thou presentst apure unstained prime.   ,    69      .     ,     1  .

		 70.  
		That thou are blamed shall not be thy defect,
		For slanders mark was ever yet the fair;
		The ornament ofbeauty is suspect,
		Acrow that flies inheavens sweetestair.
		So thou be good, slander doth but approve
		Thy worth the greater, being wooed oftime,
		For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love,
		And thou presentst apure unstained prime.
		Thou hast passed bythe ambush ofyoung days,
		Either not assailed, or victor being charged,
		Yet this thy praise cannot be so thy praise
		Totie up envy, evermore enlarged:
		If some suspect ofill masked not thy show,
		Then thou alone kingdoms ofhearts shouldstowe

 ,    6970 .

    ,   ࠖ  . ,    6970,    6268, .. 堫.              .

,     6268    ,     3- .   ࠖ ,   ,      ,  ,  .

         .

  ,      6970  .



  ,    ,   ,        , .

Ƞ    ,        .     ,       ,    (,  堖 ),   ,   ,   .

 ,      , ,   ,   ,    ,        ,  ,   ,   .       ,        ,   ,  .

  ,  ,   ,    ,     ,  ,      .

          ,     ,        , ,    ,  . Ƞ   , .

  ,   ,  . ,    . Ƞ ,  ,    ,     .

,    ,      ,     ,  ,  , ,   .           ,   ,   .

       ,     ,  , ,       .




 11.  7174.  


        7174,      .

        .      .

 , ?  ,   ⠫  32     ,  .

  7172   ,   ,  74 ,  .  73   71, 7274.

, ,      , ,          (71,72),   ,    , -   (73),        (74) ,      (71,72).

 ,    3,     4  , ..  .

     .

       .

Ƞ  , ..      ,   , , ..      ,   .

      ,     .

           ( 71),   ( 72),   ( 74),      (73).




71


      6970     .

     .

    ,  ,   ,   , ..    .

,             ,    ,     .

      ,      ,   :      ,   렖 Lest the wise world should look into your moan, And mock you with me after Iam gone.

  ,        ,     .

         ,   , ,    .

		 71.  
		No longer mourn for me when Iamdead
		Than you shall hear the surly sullenbell
		Give warning tothe world that Iamfled
		From this vile world with vildest worms todwell;
		Nay, if you read this line, remembernot
		The hand that writ it, for Ilove youso
		That Iinyour sweet thoughts would be forgot,
		If thinking on me then should make youwoe.
		Or if (Isay) you look upon this verse,
		When I(perhaps) compounded am with clay,
		Do not as much as my poor name rehearse,
		But let your love even with my life decay,
		Lest the wise world should look into your moan,
		And mock you with me after Iam gone.

  .

  (1820, 3739, 5355, 6970)    .

  (4042)      - .  ,   ,  ,     ,     .  ,   ࠖ    ࠖ        , ,  ,  .

   (6268)         .

  .

     ,    36  ,         ,    .

            .

,  ,    . ,   ,  ,   ,           .

 ,       ,     ,  ,  ,  ,    5661     .

 , ,  ,       (  )   ,      ()     ,   .

,  ,      ?

     ,       .

    ⠖ ,     ,  , ,     ,  .

,   ,       :

1.  4.    ,  ,       ,    ;

2.  6. , ,      ⠖ .    ;

3.  7.  ,   .    ;

4.  8.  ,   ,    .    ;

5.  9. Ƞ    ,      .  ⠫   , ..   ;

6.  10.    ;      .,    컠   ;

7.  11.    , , 𻠖     , , ;

8.  13.       .

 ,    ,           .

Ƞ  13, 5, 121417 , , ,     .

     ,         ,   ,     , .

Ƞ, ,    ,   ,             .

 ,         71 ,  ,        ,    .

  71   ,           .

,   70,  71 5     ,    ࠖ   17- .

,  ,       71,          .

,    ,    ,   .   :      䠖 if you read this line,      Or if (Isay) you look upon this verse.

  ,   71  ,    ,    .        ,    .




72


 ,    71.

ࠖ ,    .

		 72.  
		Πlest the world should task you torecite
		What merit lived inme that you should love,
		After my death (dear love) forget me quite;
		For you inme can nothing worthy prove,
		Unless you would devise some virtuouslie
		Todo more for me than mine own desert,
		And hang more praise upon deceasedI
		Than niggard truth would willingly impart:
		Πlest your true love may seem false inthis,
		That you for love speak well ofme untrue,
		My name be buried where my bodyis,
		And live no more toshame nor me noryou:
		For Iam shamed bythat which Ibring forth,
		And so should you, tolove things nothing worth.

      ,     72:     ,   ,   ,   My name be buried where my body is And live no more toshame nor me nor you,  ,      71.

 ,        ,   ,     ,        .

 , ,    ,  ,      ,  :     ,   렖 For Iam shamed bythat which Ibring forth (72).

       ,     ,   ?

  ,     71.

     117,  ࠫ ,       (4, 611, 13),      71.

  ,   ,       , ..        ,   .

  .

 ,         , .

   4042,      -  . Ƞ , , ,   ,    .

       젖   .         ,     ,     .

 ,   ࠫ  72?

 ,   ,  .

  .

,  36,  ,    ,   ,   , ,   .

 ,          ,  .

 72 ,     , ..       .

,    2136,  4352,  5661   ,   .

  32  ,        , ..       ,  , , , ,     .

    32   .

 ,         72.

 ,    -  ,      72.

    71,   .

         7172.   71        ,   72  910:     ,  ,  ,   Πlest your true love may seem false inthis, That you for love speak well ofme untrue.

   ,        , ,        .

  72  ,     .

  ,     ,  4       ࠖ  71.

 ,   72    ,   71, ,     ()     ,        .

   ,   ,   .

,    7172    1718.

 ,      117.

 ,   72,   .

    ,   ,     2042.

   ,   ,         ,     72   14 ,   17, 32 7 .     ,     ,  .

,   71,  72   .   ,   71,   71  (, , , )  :  .

    72  ,  (  )  ,   .

,  , ,           72,      71.




73


   ,  ,   -.

    6268  ,     ,    ,   .

 ,    ,    ,  .

		 73.  
		That time ofyear thou mayst inme behold
		When yellow leaves, or none, or few, dohang
		Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
		Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
		Inme thou seest the twilight ofsuchday
		As after sunset fadeth inthe west,
		Which byand byblack night doth take away,
		Deaths second self, that seals up all inrest.
		Inme thou seest the glowing ofsuchfire
		That on the ashes ofhis youth dothlie,
		As the death-bed whereon it must expire,
		Consumed with that which it was nourishedby.
		This thou perceivst, which makes thy love more strong,
		Tolove that well which thou must leave ere long.

,   ,  73  .   ,   .

,   73 ,   7172,        ,  ,          73,  蠖    .

             .  ,   ,       73,  ,    ,     .

,  ,    ,   ,   ?

,  ,   ,    .

Ƞ    5661,  61,      :    .

     ,      ,     .

,       ,    ,  ,   ,     .

,    73 ( )     ,  :  ,   頖 This thou perceivst, which makes thy love more strong.

,   ,    ,      5661,     ( ).

,  73  ,      .

 頖      ,     .

,   ,         .

,       5960,     ,   .

 73 tolove that well   ,    ( ),    .

 :  ,    Consumed with that which it was nourished by    .

     ,   ,     , , ,   ,     . ,  ,  ,    ( ),   ⠫, ..      - .      , ,     .

  ,    , , , ,   ,         . ,   ,   ,       . ,     蠫, .

 蠫,   ,  ,    ,    . Ƞ ,         ,    ,        .

,           ,      ,   ,  .

 , ,   7172,   73       ,  ,   ,      ࠫ ,    .

 ,   73  , 頖  .

      .

     () ࠖ  .

,    ,  ,  ,   73:

1.     ,   .

2.  ( )  ,     .

3.   .

4.    ,  .

5.       .

6.     .

,            .  , ,    .

     ,      ,    ,         .

      ,        .




74


   -,   . Π,     , ,   ,    ,    74  7172       .

     7172:

-,    ,      ,   ,      ,   :    ࠖ Which for memorial still with thee shall stay.

-,  ,   71, ,   72,  ,  ,  ,   ,   :   蠖 The worth ofthat is that which it contains.

-,      ,    ,      ,  ⠫, ..  ,  ,     .

  ,  71   ,         ,  72   젖    .

-,  ,        :    ,  頖  ࠖ So then thou hast but lost the dregs oflife, The prey ofworms, my body being dead, ,   71, ,  72.

 ,     ,     .

		 74.  
		But be contented when that fell arrest
		Without all bail shall carry me away,
		My life hath inthis line some interest,
		Which for memorial still with thee shall stay.
		When thou reviewest this, thou dost review
		The very part was consecrate tothee:
		The earth can have but earth, which is hisdue;
		My spirit is thine, the better part ofme.
		So then thou hast but lost the dregs oflife,
		The prey ofworms, my body being dead,
		The coward conquest ofawretchs knife,
		Too base ofthee tobe remembered:
		The worth ofthat is that which it contains,
		And that is this, and this with thee remains.

 ,      32,   .     ,   ,      ,    ,  74.

  , ,   32,   ࠖ  .

 ,      ,     -.    ,      . Ƞ  74     32  .



    .

    , ,  ,   ,   .

 ,        , ,  ,    ⠖  .




 12.  7588.    


    7588       .

       :  7580,  81  8288.

,      ,          ,    ,         .




75


   ,     ,   6970.

 75, ,    - . ,       .  75  -  .

-           ,    .

		 75.  
		So are you tomy thoughts as food tolife,
		Or as sweet seasoned showers are tothe ground;
		And for the peace ofyou Ihold such strife
		As twixt amiser and has wealth is found:
		Now proud as an enjoyer, andanon
		Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure;
		Now counting best tobe with you alone,
		Then bettered that the world may see my pleasure:
		Sometime all full with feasting on your sight,
		And byand byclean starved for alook;
		Possessing or pursuing no delight
		Save what is had or must from you be took.
		Thus do Ipine and surfeit day byday,
		Or gluttoning on all, or all away.

 75 ,       젖    ,    ,   .

     , ,     .   :   Then bettered that the world may see my pleasure, :   Now counting best tobe with you alone  .

   ,          .   ,  ,  .     ? ,  !

 ,   75  ,  .    ,   ,    ,       .

  , ,   ,     , , 36.

 ,   젖 , , ,      .

     ,  ,         .

    ? ,           .

    ,                   ( 79,80,82,83,85,86).

,  ,     56   75:     ,    蠖 Sometime all full with feasting on your sight, And byand byclean starved for alook.

  56        :   ,   , ..  .   ࠖ   75, ,   3  ,  ,    .    , ,  .    ,          36. ,    3  ,    5675          .




76


  .      75   ,      .

		 76.  
		Why is my verse so barren ofnew pride?
		So far from variation or quick change?
		Why with the time do Inot glance aside
		Tonew-found methods and tocompounds strange?
		Why write Istill all one, ever the same,
		And keep invention inanoted weed,
		That every word doth almost tell my name,
		Showing their birth, and where they did proceed?
		Πknow, sweet love, Ialways write ofyou,
		And you and love are still my argument;
		So all my best is dressing old wordsnew,
		Spending again what is already spent:
		For as the sun is daily new andold,
		So is my love still telling what is told.

     ,   ,    .

          .

      .

,   76     ,   .

         ,  ,  .

 :  ࠖ ,  ,  And you and love are still my argument     .

         75     76.

       .




77


  ,    .

   ,     78   76.

    ,    堖      , .. .

, ,   76 ,      77, .

 ,       젖 The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show,     Ofmouthed graves will give thee memory,     ,       ,       .

		 77.  
		Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,
		Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste,
		The vacant leaves thy minds imprint will bear,
		And ofthis book, this learning mayst thou taste:
		The wrinkles which thy glass will trulyshow
		Ofmouthed graves will give thee memory;
		Thou bythe dials shady stealth maystknow
		Times thievish progress toeternity;
		Look what thy memory cannot contain
		Commit tothese waste blanks, and thou shaltfind
		Those children nursed, delivered from thy brain,
		Totake anew acquaintance ofthy mind.
		These offices, so oft as thou wilt look,
		Shall profit thee, and much enrich thy book.

     77 , ..    76.




78


,   ,    76.       ,     .          ,   .

 78,  ,    :  ,  ,  젖 As every alien pen hath got my use, And under thee their poesy disperse.

    ,      ,      , ,     , .

		 78.  
		So oft have Iinvoked thee for my Muse,
		And found such fair assistance inmy verse,
		As every alien pen hath got myuse,
		And under thee their poesy disperse.
		Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high tosing,
		And heavy ignorance aloft tofly,
		Have added feathers tothe learnedswing
		And given grace adouble majesty.
		Yet be most proud ofthat which Icompile,
		Whose influence is thine, and born ofthee:
		Inothers works thou dost but mend the style,
		And arts with thy sweet graces gracedbe;
		But thou art all my art, and dost advance
		As high as learning my rude ignorance.

       ,      ,     . ,    18, 38, 5355, 69,72.

       ,  ,   .

 ,   7677 .




79


  .

		 79.  
		Whilst Ialone did call upon thyaid,
		My verse alone had all thy gentle grace,
		But now my gracious numbers are decayed,
		And my sick Muse doth give another place.
		Igrant (sweet love) thy lovely argument
		Deserves the travail ofaworthierpen,
		Yet what ofthee thy poet doth invent
		He robs thee of, and pays it thee again:
		He lends thee virtue, and he stole thatword
		From thy behaviour; beauty doth he give,
		And found it inthy cheek; he can afford
		No praise tothee but what inthee doth live.
		Then thank him not for that which he dothsay,
		Since what he owes thee, thou thyself dostpay.

 .   ,     ,  .      -,    .

  ,    78   ,   .

        ࠖ Deserves the travail ofaworthier pen.   .

    .   .




80


  .

     79  ,  ,    젖 better spirit.

           .   ,           ,      .

 ,    ,  ,      ,    .

 ,         :   ,      젖 The worst was this: my love was my decay.   .

		 80.  
		Πhow Ifaint when Iofyou do write,
		Knowing abetter spirit doth use your name,
		And inthe praise thereof spends all his might,
		Tomake me tongue-tied Speaking ofyour fame.
		But since your worth (wide as the oceanis)
		The humble as the proudest sail doth bear,
		My saucy bark (inferior far tohis)
		On your broad main doth wilfully appear.
		Your shallowest help will hold me up afloat,
		Whilst he upon your soundless deep doth ride,
		Or (being wracked) Iam aworthless boat,
		He oftall building and ofgoodly pride.
		Then if he thrive and Ibe cast away,
		The worst was this: my love was my decay.

  .   堖  .




81


,   ,      .

  ,         . ,        .

 ,   ,      ,         .

, ,     -.

      .    , , .

:

1.   72,        , , :     蠖 Your monument shall be my gentle verse.

2.    18    頖 Where breath most breathes, even inthe mouths ofmen.

3.    60   ,  .   81   .

 ,    18   .      ,   ,        .

   81        18 , 蠫  72,   6074,     81.

		 81.  
		Or shall Ilive your epitaph tomake,
		Or you survive when Iinearth am rotten,
		From hence your memory death cannot take,
		Although inme each part will be forgotten.
		Your name from hence immortal life shall have,
		Though I(once gone) toall the world mustdie;
		The earth can yield me but acommon grave,
		When you intombed inmens eyes shalllie:
		Your monument shall be my gentle verse,
		Which eyes not yet created shall oer-read,
		And tongues tobe your being shall rehearse,
		When all the breathers ofthis world are dead;
		You still shall live (such virtue hath mypen)
		Where breath most breathes, even inthe mouths ofmen.

         ?

 ,     , -   ,  ,     , ..   .

     ,       74,  ,   .

  81      74 .

,    ,       ,  ,    .    ,   , -, .

  ,  ,         :    ,   젖 Or shall Ilive your epitaph tomake, Or you survive.

      ,   .

 ,   81  .

 82. ,   ,     76, 7880.       .    80.

 81    .

,     80        81,       81   82.

,    82 ,  , ,  ,         ,      ࠖ Finding thy worth alimit past my praise.

 , ,        ,      ,  .

    ,        ,      ,       .

		 82.  
		Igrant thou wert not married tomy Muse,
		And therefore mayst without attaint oerlook
		The dedicated words which writersuse
		Oftheir fair subjects, blessing every book.
		Thou art as fair inknowledge as inhue,
		Finding thy worth alimit past my praise,
		And therefore art inforced toseekanew
		Some fresher stamp ofthe time-bettering days.
		And do so, love; yet when they have devised
		What strained touches rhetoric can lend,
		Thou, truly fair, wert truly sympathised
		Intrue plain words bythe true-telling friend;
		And their gross painting might be betterused
		Where cheeks need blood; inthee it is abused.

 ,     젖 And therefore art inforced toseek anew  ,     .

   82  .




83


  .

        -    :     ࠖ And therefore have Islept inyour report,     :      This silence for my sin you did impute.

  ,  ,  ,           .

 83       .      .

		 83.  
		Inever saw that you did painting need,
		And therefore toyour fair no paintingset;
		Ifound (or thought Ifound) you did exceed
		The barren tender ofapoets debt:
		And therefore have Islept inyour report,
		That you yourself, being extant, well mightshow
		How far amodern quill doth come too short,
		Speaking ofworth, what worth inyou doth grow.
		This silence for my sin you did impute,
		Which shall be most my glory, being dumb,
		For Iimpair not beauty, being mute,
		When others would give life, and bring atomb.
		There lives more life inone ofyour faireyes
		Than both your poets can inpraise devise.

  頖  .




84


  .

    .   ,      ,   ,    ,    ,   ,     :  ,    堖 Being fond ofpraise, which makes your praises worse.     -.

    .  .

		 84.  
		Who is it that says most which can saymore
		Than this rich praise that you alone areyou,
		Inwhose confine immured is the store
		Which should example where your equal grew?
		Lean penury within that pen doth dwell
		That tohis subject lends not some small glory,
		But he that writes ofyou, if he cantell
		That you are you, so dignifies his story:
		Let him but copy what inyou is writ,
		Not making worse what nature made so clear,
		And such acounterpart shall fame hiswit,
		Making his style admired every where.
		You toyour beauteous blessings add acurse,
		Being fond ofpraise, which makes your praises worse.




85


  .

   .   ,   80,      .

     , ,   ,  ,   -.

        85.

		 85.  
		My tongue-tied Muse inmanners holds her still,
		While comments ofyour praise, richly compiled,
		Reserve their character with golden quill
		And precious phrase byall the Muses filed.
		Ithink good thoughts, whilst other write good words,
		And like unlettered clerk still cry Amen
		Toevery hymn that every spirit affords
		Inpolished form ofwell-refinedpen.
		Hearing you praised, Isay, Tis so, tis true,
		And tothe most ofpraise add something more;
		(But that is inmy thought, whose love toyou
		(Though words come hindmost) holds his rank before.
		Then others for the breath ofwords respect,
		Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking ineffect.

 ,         , .

          .     .

  .  頖  .




86


     .

    ,   .

 .

		 86.  
		Was it the proud full sail ofhis great verse,
		Bound for the prize ofall-too-preciousyou,
		That did my ripe thoughts inmy brain inhearse,
		Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew?
		Was it his spirit, byspirits taught towrite
		Above amortal pitch, that struck me dead?
		No, neither he, nor his compeers bynight
		Giving him aid, my verse astonishnd.
		He, nor that affable familiar ghost
		Which nightly gulls him with intelligence,
		As victors, ofmy silence cannot boast;
		Iwas not sick ofany fear from thence;
		But when your countenance filled up his line,
		Then lacked Imatter, that infeebled mine.




87


   86  ,      .

     ,      .

    .

   .      87,   ,  .

        ,      .

  87     . , ,         :      The charter ofthy worth gives thee releasing.

    ,    :    And so my patent back again is swerving.

       堖    ࠖ And like enough thou knowst thy estimate,     , : !  㠖 Farewell, thou art too dear for my possessing.     ,      .

     ,      堖      렖 Comes home again, on better judgement making.

		 87.  
		Farewell, thou art too dear for my possessing,
		And like enough thou knowst thy estimate:
		The charter ofthy worth gives thee releasing;
		My bonds inthee are all determinate.
		For how do Ihold thee but bythy granting,
		And for that riches where is my deserving?
		The cause ofthis fair gift inme is wanting,
		And so my patent back again is swerving.
		Thy self thou gavst, thy own worth then not knowing,
		Or me, towhom thou gavst it, else mistaking;
		So thy great gift, upon misprision growing,
		Comes home again, on better judgement making.
		Thus have Ihad thee as adream doth flatter,
		Insleep aking, but waking no such matter.

     ,             頖 Thus have Ihad thee as adream doth flatter, .        ,   .

      87    ,     ,  . ,    .




88


  . , ,  ,      ,   87. ,   88     .

  ,   ,    ,    .

        .      .

  ,        ,    87,  ,       ,  ,    Upon thy part Ican set down astory.

   ,          .

,   .

		 88.  
		When thou shalt be disposed toset me light,
		And place my merit inthe eye ofscorn,
		Upon thy side against myself Ill fight,
		And prove thee virtuous, though thou art forsworn:
		With mine own weakness being best acquainted,
		Upon thy part Ican set down astory
		Offaults concealed wherein Iam attainted,
		That thou inlosing me shall win much glory;
		And Ibythis will be againertoo,
		For, bending all my loving thoughts on thee,
		The injuries that tomyself Ido,
		Doing thee vantage, double vantageme.
		Such is my love, tothee Iso belong,
		That for thy right myself will bear all wrong.

 88   , ,    , ,        . ,  , ,   ,      .

 ,   ,    ,     ,  ,        .         ,     ,       ,    .

     88  ,     .

 ,   ,    ,  ,        .

  88    ,    20, 3942,     .    ,      堖     ,   ,     .



       (   ,   ),   ,  ,  ,  ,      .          , 蠖 ,     88  ,     .



 ,   7588      ,  ,    뻠     ,  ,    .

   ,    ,    .

  ,    ,    ,  ࠖ ,     ,     .

           ,      ,  ,   .




 13.  8993.  


    8993,     .     ,    8288  89,       .

  89  .




89


  89, ,     88,  ,    ,  : ,   ,   Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault.

		 89.  
		Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault,
		And Iwill comment upon that offence;
		Speak ofmy lameness, and Istraight will halt,
		Against thy reasons making no defence.
		Thou canst not (love) disgrace me half soill,
		Toset aform upon desired change,
		As Ill myself disgrace, knowing thy will:
		Iwill acquaintance strangle and look strange,
		Be absent from thy walks, and inmy tongue
		Thy sweet beloved name no more shall dwell,
		Lest I(too much profane) should do it wrong,
		And haply ofour old acquaintance tell.
		For thee, against myself Ill vow debate,
		For Imust neer love him whom thou dost hate.

    ,        .

堖       .

     88.

   ( 88)   ,  ,   89 堖   ,  :    ,   蠖 Lest I(too much profane) should do it wrong, And haply ofour old acquaintance tell.        , , 36.

   ,             ,     ,   .

  89,   88,     4  .

    .




90


   .

,            .

		 90.  
		Then hate me when thou wilt, if ever,now
		Now while the world is bent my deeds tocross,
		Join with the spite ofFortune, make mebow,
		And do not drop infor an after-loss.
		Ah do not, when my heart has scaped this sorrow,
		Come inthe rearward ofaconqueredwoe;
		Give not awindy night arainy morrow,
		Tolinger out apurposed overthrow.
		If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
		When other petty griefs have done their spite,
		But inthe onset come; so shall Itaste
		At first the very worst ofFortunes might;
		And other strains ofwoe, which now seemwoe,
		Compared with loss ofthee, will not seemso.

:    頖 Now while the world is bent my deeds tocross, ,      ,  .

Ƞ  :    And do not drop infor an after-loss  ,     ,        ( 87,88  86(,  ,  ).

         ,     .

     Then hate me when thou wilt, if ever, now  ,   ?

   :    蠖 Ah do not, when my heart has scaped this sorrow,    :    Tolinger out apurposed overthrow?   ,      ?  ,     ,    .        ,   87 .  , 젖   ,        .

 ,               ( 87) 蠫   ( 88)  ,  ,     䠖 At first the very worst ofFortunes might .. 젖  (    ),      (   ).        , ,   90  .




91


 ,   ,    .

     ,   .

           .

      9193.

     91.

		 91.  
		Some glory intheir birth, some intheir skill,
		Some intheir wealth, some intheir bodys force,
		Some intheir garments, though new-fangledill,
		Some intheir hawks and hounds, some intheir horse;
		And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure,
		Wherein it finds ajoy above the rest;
		But these particulars are not my measure:
		All these Ibetter inone general best.
		Thy love is better than high birth tome,
		Richer that wealth, prouder than garments cost,
		Ofmore delight than hawks and horsesbe;
		And having thee, ofall mens pride Iboast:
		Wretched inthis alone, that thou maysttake
		All this away, and me most wretched make.

               .          ,     , ..    .

  ,     ,   ,        ,  ,        .

       107, 114124,     ,       .

 ,   107      , ,  107    -  .   91   ,       ,  .

     ,    ,    91  .

      ,   , ..  .   ,    ,     堖 Wretched inthis alone, that thou mayst take All this away, and me most wretched make      91, ,   ,    92,           92,  .




92


  91 .

  :  ,  ⠖ But do thy worst tosteal thyself away.       91 ,      ,     ,     .

  ,           91,    .    91,  ,  ,       ,    , !     廠   , ..   ,  .

  92    ,     .

		 92.  
		But do thy worst tosteal thyself away,
		For term oflife thou art assured mine,
		And life no longer than thy love will stay,
		For it depends upon that love ofthine.
		Then need Inot tofear the worst ofwrongs,
		When inthe least ofthem my life hathend;
		Isee abetter state tome belongs
		Than that which on thy humour doth depend.
		Thou canst not vex me with inconstant mind,
		Since that my life on that revolt dothlie.
		Πwhat ahappy title do Ifind,
		Happy tohave thy love, happy todie!
		But whats so blessed-fair that fears no blot?
		Thou mayst be false, and yet Iknow itnot.

 ,     91      92.

     堖   ,    .    :     ࠖ Thou mayst be false, and yet Iknow it not,      92. Ÿ  ,     93  ,   92.

,    92  ,   ,   91,  ,     .

,        91,   ,      92 .




93


    ,     ,     92.  93 :   ,  ,  ,   蠖 So shall Ilive, supposing thou art true, Like adeceived husband; so loves face,      92,        .

  , , ,  ,    ࠖ  .

		 93.  
		So shall Ilive, supposing thou art true,
		Like adeceived husband; so lovesface
		May still seem love tome, though alterednew;
		Thy looks with me, thy heart inother place:
		For there can live no hatred inthineeye,
		Therefore inthat Icannot know thy change.
		Inmanys looks, the false hearts history
		Is writ inmoods and frowns and wrinkles strange,
		But heaven inthy creation did decree
		That inthy face sweet love should ever dwell;
		What eer thy thoughts or thy hearts workingsbe,
		Thy looks should nothing thence but sweetness tell.
		How like Eves apple doth thy beauty grow,
		If thy sweet virtue answer not thy show!

,  ,   93    ࠖ .

    ,          .

 ,           .     ,       ,      ,         ,    .



   , ,       .

        .

 堖  ,   .        (.  20),           (   , .. ).

    ?           (51).

       .     ,      (  ),    .

      .

   ,   ,   91,      ,      93     9192,     .

   .



 ,   91,    9193    ,  ,      ,       .




 14.  9496.  


    9496젖  .

       8993  94,     .




94


,  ,  ,     9193.

   93  94  .

   94    93,    ,   .

  94     ,     ,  ,  .

,   ,    .

     ,    94,    .

  ,     : 蠖 ,   , 젖     They are the lords and owners oftheir faces, Others but stewards oftheir excellence.,    ,      ,   .

       ( 53, 54, 55, 69, 70),      ,    .

   ,    ( 21, 36, 48, 52, 89),       ,    .

   93 ,   :       ,  , ꠖ ,    , 堫,   94,     .

  94    93 4      .

		 94.  
		They that have powr tohurt, and will do none,
		That do not do the thing they most do show,
		Who, moving others, are themselves as stone,
		Unmoved, cold, and totemptation slow
		They rightly do inherit heavens graces,
		And husband natures riches from expense;
		They are the lords and owners oftheir faces,
		Others but stewards oftheir excellence.
		The summers flowr is tothe summer sweet,
		Though toitself it only live anddie,
		But if that flowr with base infection meet,
		The basest weed outbraves his dignity:
		For sweetest things turn sourest bytheir deeds;
		Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.

,  94  .     ,     , ,    ,  .

     ,    6368,    ,  .        94,        .     ,   6268,    94 : ,           .




95


      .      9293.

   ,    ,   ,      ,     .  ,   , ,     .      .

      .

Ѡ ,  95  94,     ,    95, ,   ( ( 94),  ( 95))       ( ( 94),  ( 95)).

 ,      95 94,       94  .

		 95.  
		How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame
		Which, like acanker inthe fragrant rose,
		Doth spot the beauty ofthy budding name!
		Πinwhat sweets dost thou thy sins inclose!
		That tongue that tells the story ofthydays
		(Making lascivious comments on thy sport)
		Cannot dispraise, but inakind ofpraise,
		Naming thy name, blesses an ill report.
		Πwhat amansion have those vicesgot
		Which for their habitation chose out thee,
		Where beautys veil doth cover every blot,
		And all things turns tofair that eyes cansee!
		Take heed (dear heart) ofthis large privilege:
		The hardest knife ill used doth lose its edge.

 ,  95    , ,  ,   .

  ,      ࠖ Naming thy name, blesses an ill report.

  ,    16-      ,  .  ,        .

     . ,       ,      . Ƞ,  ,  .

   95, -     ,      (..  ),  .

,     ꠫  95   ,    5758,    , ,   ( ),  ,  ,    .

  5758  ,   95,         -   .

 ,    95    6970.      ,     69.      ,    .

 ,  ,   ,    95  .




96


    .

   .  頖  .

		 96.  
		Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness,
		Some say thy grace is youth and gentle sport;
		Both grace and faults are loved ofmore and less:
		Thou makst faults graces that tothee resort.
		As on afinger ofathroned queen
		The basest jewel will be well esteemed,
		So are those errors that inthee areseen
		Totruths translated, and for true things deemed.
		How many lambs might the stern wolf betray,
		If like alamb he could his looks translate!
		How many gazers mightst thou lead away,
		If thou wouldst use the strength ofall thy state!
		But do not so; Ilove thee insuch sort,
		As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.

 96 ,         36.

    .      3696,          (3).

 ,   36  ,     .

  96  ,  , ,    ,        .     ,      ,     ,     .

      9594.    9496,       , , ,  ,     .

 ! ( 96)    ,    .    ,  :     ,   ,      ( 94),   ,      ( 95),   ,     ,   (96).

,     ,    36.

 , ,  ,   36,  96    36.

         ,   ,   .



  36       ,       , ..          ( 堖  ), ,     .

  96     ,          (), .., ,       ( 堖  ,  ),      .

         3696, ..    ࠖ   96.




 15.  9799.  


    9799젖  .

      9496  97,       ࠖ  .



 97.  ,     .      ,  .

		 97.  
		How like awinter hath my absencebeen
		From thee, the pleasure ofthe fleeting year!
		What freezings have Ifelt, what dark days seen!
		What old Decembers bareness every where!
		And yet this time removed was summers time,
		The teeming autumn big with rich increase,
		Bearing the wanton burthen ofthe prime,
		Like widowed wombs after their lords decease:
		Yet this abundant issue seemd tome
		But hope oforphans, and unfathered fruit,
		For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
		And thou away, the very birds are mute;
		Or if they sing, tis with so dull acheer
		That leaves look pale, dreading the winters near.

   ,   ,      ⠫ ,      .

 堖   :      How like awinter hath my absence been.        ( 2729,4345,50,51,57,58).

  ,          .

    97  ,       (39).

Ƞ,   ,  ,       , , ,   .

       .

     .     ,   ,    , ,  ,     ,     ,    ,  .



     97  99,       9799.

     98,   99  ,   99    .

 ,    97     .

  97,    ,   ࠖ  .




98


   97  98    ,    , ,  ,  :    ࠖ Yet seemed it winter still, and, you away.

        98  ,     .

		 98.  
		From you have Ibeen absent inthe spring,
		When proud-pied April (dressed inall his trim)
		Hath put aspirit ofyouth inevery thing,
		That heavy Saturn laughed and leapt withhim.
		Yet nor the lays ofbirds, nor the sweet smell
		Ofdifferent flowers inodour and inhue,
		Could make me any summers story tell,
		Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew:
		Nor did Iwonder at the lilys white,
		Nor praise the deep vermilion inthe rose;
		They were but sweet, but figures ofdelight,
		Drawn after you, you pattern ofall those.
		Yet seemed it winter still, and, you away,
		As with your shadow Iwith these did play.

     1112.       21   ,     .   98     ,  .

  21   .

    ,   ,      . Ƞ    , ,      ,  .

,  , -     ,  ,   ࠖ  .

    ,      ,    .

    98  ࠖ    99.   ,        .




99


      98     ,    98.

 99    98,   ,       .

 ,   99 15?

		 99.  
		The forward violet thus did Ichide:
		Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells,
		If not from my loves breath? The purple pride
		Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells
		Inmy loves veins thou hast too grossly dyed.
		The lily Icondemned for thy hand,
		And buds ofmarjoram had stoln thy hair;
		The roses fearfully on thorns did stand,
		One blushing shame, another white despair;
		Athird, nor red nor white, had stoln ofboth,
		And tohis robbry had annexed thy breath,
		But for his theft inpride ofall his growth
		Avengeful canker eat him up todeath.
		More flowers Inoted, yet Inone couldsee
		But sweet or colour it had stoln from thee.

     9798, ,     99,       99 ,        99,         99 .

,    ,        99   ,  ,  ,  ,         9798.

      20.



  20  ,        . Ƞ ,   99    , ,   ,  :   ,  ,  頖 Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells, If not from my loves breath.

Ƞ ,       . ,   99  .

       99,        , . .  9798.

       ,      .

,  99      . ,       98,      21    .

      ,    .



   9799    ,      ,  ,   .

   ,   ,    ,      .

,   97,    2729,4345,50,51,57,58,    99,   20.

   98,    97,   21.

          , ,         .

   ,               ,   .




 16.  100105.  


    100-105젖  .

      9799  100,        .




100


 ,  99.

    ,      ,     .

        100    99.

,   ࠖ ,       .     ?

.     7686,          ( 79)   ࠖ    (85).

      ?

 .   21         ?   .

    ࠖ ,   ,         ,  ,        ?

		 100.  
		Where art thou, Muse, that thou forgetst solong
		Tospeak ofthat which gives thee all thy might?
		Spendst thou thy fury on some worthless song,
		Darkning thy powr tolend base subjects light?
		Return, forgetful Muse, and straight redeem
		Ingentle numbers time so idly spent;
		Sing tothe ear that doth thy lays esteem
		And gives thy pen both skill and argument.
		Rise, resty Muse, my loves sweet face survey,
		If Time have any wrinkle graven there;
		If any, be asatire todecay,
		And make Times spoils despised every where.
		Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life;
		So thou preventst his scythe and crooked knife.

,      ,     36,    .           .

   ,       .

  ,    .    ,    ,      ,  .

  ,    ,  ,       .

      101,          100.

,       101 100,   100  .




101


   .

    ,      he     ࠖ .

,   栖  ,   ,   .

		 101.  
		Πtruant Muse, what shall be thy amends
		For thy neglect oftruth inbeauty dyed?
		Both truth and beauty on my love depends;
		So dost thou too, and therein dignified.
		Make answer, Muse, wilt thou not haplysay,
		Truth needs no colour with his colour fixed,
		Beauty no pencil, beautys truth tolay;
		But best is best, if never intermixed?
		Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?
		Excuse not silence so, fort lies inthee
		Tomake him much outlive agilded tomb,
		And tobe praised ofages yet tobe.
		Then do thy office, Muse; Iteach theehow
		Tomake him seem long hence as he showsnow.

 ,   101, ,   100,    ⠖  ,   ꠫,    ࠖ ,         , ,          6268.

          .

,   ,     ,       (100101)      ,       6268.




102


      ,         .

       .          ( 87, 88),      94,95,96  ,      ,     100101,     ,    .

         .

    ,     ,    :   ,  䠖 ,  堖   䠖 My love is strengthned, though more weak inseeming; Ilove not less, though less the show appear.

       102    ࠖ  .

     , ,    .    ,    , , ,     ,   , ,  8993.

        101.    ࠖ 頖 ,  100.

		 102.  
		My love is strengthned, though more weak inseeming;
		Ilove not less, though less the show appear:
		That love is merchandised whose rich esteeming
		The owners tongue doth publish every where.
		Our love was new, and then but inthe spring,
		When Iwas wont togreet it with my lays,
		As Philomel insummers front doth sing,
		And stops his pipe ingrowth ofriper days:
		Not that the summer is less pleasantnow
		Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,
		But that wild music burthens every bough,
		And sweets grown common lose their dear delight.
		Therefore like her, Isometime hold my tongue,
		Because Iwould not dull you with my song.

     , ..   ,  .      ࠖ As Philomel insummers front doth sing    젖   ,  .    ,     Because Iwould not dull you with my song, - . Ƞ        , ࠫ,    .

 ,    ,         ,    ,   ,   ?

, ,   젖 , 젖     , . .     蠫 .     .

 ,     蠖 , , ,  ,    蠫 ,  ,   堖  蠫.

    ,   20, 39, 4288,   ,   ,   .

,    ( )             ()   , ..  , ..   .




103


     ,  102.

         ,           .

 ,         7283,  72  ,  83  .

      ,  堖 That overgoes my blunt invention quite,       .

		 103.  
		Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth,
		That, having such ascope toshow her pride,
		The argument all bare is ofmore worth
		Than when it hath my added praise beside.
		Πblame me not if Ino more can write!
		Look inyour glass, and there appears aface
		That overgoes my blunt invention quite,
		Dulling my lines, and doing me disgrace.
		Were it not sinful then, striving tomend,
		Tomar the subject that before was well?
		For tono other pass my versestend
		Than ofyour graces and your gifts totell;
		And more, much more than inmy verse cansit,
		Your own glass shows you, when you look init.

     100101,     ,   .

     ,       .

 ,         ,   3 .

         ,     ,      ,   . Ƞ       :    ,   .

       3103.

 103,   18, 6471,        ()  17- .



104.

   ,   .

     .    ,   ,     :      ,  堖 Tome, fair friend, you never can be old.

   102103.   , , ,  頖  .

		 104.  
		Tome, fair friend, you never can beold,
		For as you were when first your eye Ieyed,
		Such seems your beauty still. Three winterscold
		Have from the forests shook three summers pride,
		Three beauteous springs toyellow autumn turned
		Inprocess ofthe seasons have Iseen,
		Three April perfumes inthree hot Junes burned,
		Since first Isaw you fresh which yet are green.
		Ah yet doth beauty, like adial-hand,
		Steal from his figure, and no pace perceived;
		So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
		Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceived;
		For fear ofwhich, hear this, thou age unbred:
		Ere you were born was beautys summer dead.




105


      ,   100101,      .

		 105.  
		Let not my love be calld idolatry,
		Nor my beloved as an idol show,
		Since all alike my songs and praisesbe
		Toone, ofone, still such, and everso.
		Kind is my love to-day, to-morrow kind,
		Still constant inawondrous excellence;
		Therefore my verse, toconstancy confined,
		One thing expressing, leaves out difference.
		Fair, kind and true is all my argument,
		Fair, kind, and true, varying toother words,
		And inthis change is my invention spent,
		Three themes inone, which wondrous scope affords.
		Fair, kind, and true have often lived alone,
		Which three till now never kept seat inone.

        :      Therefore my verse, toconstancy confined,     76,        (    )  :       (76).

 ,      , ,   ,    ,     ,     .

      5354, , ,    ,  .

   , ,    , ,  57,58,61,92,93.

      105,    ,     , .. .

  105    ,         ,       53,5476, 蠫    .

  ,   105    ,        .



   100105      堖  ,     ( 102104),       ( 100, 101105).

Ƞ   ,     ,     .

      ,         .

,    ,           ,    ,   ,     .

 ,   ,          ,      .



        ?

      , ,  ,  ,    .

,    ,     ,     , .. ,   ,  .

,     ,        ,    ,          ,  , ,       .

Ƞ, ,  ,    ,  ,   ,     ,        .

ʠ,      ,   .           ,      .

    ,  ,      ,   ,  ,  .



           , ,    ,      .

ʠ        ,    ,      ,     ,         .

,   , ..   ,    , ,  ,    ,         ,    .  ,    ,       .




 17.   .  106.  


  106       ,       .

    ,          .

   ,  ,    ,         ,  ,   .

Ƞ      ,     ,     . ,  ,      , ..    ,    ,     .

             ,   ,   ,  , ,     .

Ѡ ,   ,       ,      ,   ,   .

,     ,      ,      ,       .



 ,  ,   ,       , ..  ,   堫  .

   ,   .

  ,   ,    .

  ,        : ,  ,      ()   (),    .         ,     .

,    ,      ,     ,          ,  ,   .

            ,  ,     .

 ,           , .

       ,    .

     ,    堖 ,    .

        ,    ,      .

 , ,      ,  : , , , ..         .         ( )    ,      ,  -    (頖 , 頖 )    .

  ,        ,      ,      .

 ,          (      ),  , ,      , ,   ,        .

     : ,  蠫.  ,    ( )    .  ,    ( )    .  ,     ,     .



,    ,        , ,  106( ),       .

        :

1.   105()    :  .

1.1.   105   砫 ໠       ,  ,     , , .

1.2.           컠   .

1.3.            軠      .

1.4.      ,  ,     󻠖    .

1.5.        ()   ໠    .

2.     :  .

2.1.          󻠖    ,   .

2.2.           ,   ⻠    ,   .

2.3.                  .

2.4.        軠   .

2.5.              ໠      .



    ,     .

 ,   105106 ,  .1.5,    , ,  , ,       .

       ,         .

  -       ,          ,         .

   105106   ,      .1.5.



3.  ,         ,       ,      .

4.              򻠖    ,    ,   .

 ,           ,    , ,        .

     , ,   .

   ,       ,      , ..    ,             .

     .3 , , ,  ,     .6 ,        .

 ,        ,     .

5.              ,   ,  .

    ,   ,   .

5.1.   1  뻠      砖  򻠖    :     (   ).

5.2.   2     頖  򻠖    :     (   ).

5.3.   3    ࠖ  .    :    .

  .5.3.  ( )  ,  ,  , .

   ( )    ( ) ,      .4.

  ( )    ( )     1 2  .

5.4.   4       򻠖    :     (   ).

5.5.   5  ,     .    :     (   ).

5.6.            ,        2, ..    .

    ,           ,     蠫, .

  ,         蠫,      .

   ,   ( )   ,   ,    ,        ( )     .

     :

6.     ,     .1. .2.       ,     .



 , ,        ,  , . Ƞ,  ,  ,       ,      ,  ,  ,              .



    106,       . Π   105     .          .

		 106.  
		When inthe chronicle ofwastedtime
		Isee descriptions ofthe fairest Wights,
		And beauty making beautiful old rhyme
		Inpraise ofladies dead and lovely knights,
		Then inthe blazon ofsweet beautys best,
		Ofhand, offoot, oflip, ofeye, ofbrow,
		Isee their antique pen would have expressed
		Even such abeauty as you masternow.
		So all their praises are but prophecies
		Ofthis our time, all you prefiguring,
		And, for they looked but with diviningeyes
		They had not skill enough your worth tosing:
		For we, which now behold these present days,
		Had eyes towonder, but lack tongues topraise.

  105 ,         106,   ,                ,   , ,  ,     .  ,    105  1104.     ,    105, ..     ? ,      .       :   106  1104.

     ,        .

   ,    , ..      .

,           106, ..     ( ),  ,       (). (.    ).

Ѡ   106:    .      .

        ,       :      ,     Isee their antique pen would have expressed Even such abeauty as you master now.

       :  ,   ,     So all their praises are but prophecies Ofthis our time, all you prefiguring.

     ,      ?  ,       (): , 堖 .

    :   ,    ,  ,     For we, which now behold these present days, Had eyes towonder, but lack tongues topraise,   堫 堫 , ࠫ, ..    ,   .




  .


   .

   ,     (https://www.litres.ru/pages/biblio_book/?art=42647333)  .

      Visa, MasterCard, Maestro,    ,   ,     ,  PayPal, WebMoney, ., QIWI ,       .


