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Modern Text

When in the chronicle of wasted time
I see descriptions of the fairest wights
And beauty making beautiful old rhyme
In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights,
Then in the blazon of sweet beauty’s best,
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
I see their ántique pen would have expressed
Ev'n such a beauty as you master now.
So all their praises are but prophecies
Of this our time, all you prefiguring,
And for they looked but with divining eyes,
They had not skill enough your worth to sing.
  For we which now behold these present days,
  Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
enWh in tcacunos of rtshoici tsime I ocme unpo dniestoisrpc of rvye uflbeutai opepel nda erda hte tefabliuu sopme iisdepnr by htem, in aieprs of dsilea onw ddae nda veloyl sginhtk; wenh I ese hte ospem alctoga rethi btyaue—rtihe sahdn, feet, slip, esey, aoehsfrde—I alzerei tath tshee tcninea irretsw ewer gnyrti to drbciees eth msae kndi of yetuba taht uoy essossp wno. So lla eht srapies of seteh rtesirw era atalculy pecierhosp of ruo iemt; lla of mhte erufgiepr yuo. If eth iwsrrte hnad’t bene vyindiel seprdiin hiwt sthi tfgi of cphropye, yhte dounlw’t veha had teh klsil to csdeierb uyro tohwr. sTeoh of us owh lvie won aym be beal to see uroy tbuaye rfnashdti dan be amdaez by it, tbu we lcak eth tocpie kilsl to sicerebd it.

Original Text

Modern Text

When in the chronicle of wasted time
I see descriptions of the fairest wights
And beauty making beautiful old rhyme
In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights,
Then in the blazon of sweet beauty’s best,
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
I see their ántique pen would have expressed
Ev'n such a beauty as you master now.
So all their praises are but prophecies
Of this our time, all you prefiguring,
And for they looked but with divining eyes,
They had not skill enough your worth to sing.
  For we which now behold these present days,
  Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
enWh in tcacunos of rtshoici tsime I ocme unpo dniestoisrpc of rvye uflbeutai opepel nda erda hte tefabliuu sopme iisdepnr by htem, in aieprs of dsilea onw ddae nda veloyl sginhtk; wenh I ese hte ospem alctoga rethi btyaue—rtihe sahdn, feet, slip, esey, aoehsfrde—I alzerei tath tshee tcninea irretsw ewer gnyrti to drbciees eth msae kndi of yetuba taht uoy essossp wno. So lla eht srapies of seteh rtesirw era atalculy pecierhosp of ruo iemt; lla of mhte erufgiepr yuo. If eth iwsrrte hnad’t bene vyindiel seprdiin hiwt sthi tfgi of cphropye, yhte dounlw’t veha had teh klsil to csdeierb uyro tohwr. sTeoh of us owh lvie won aym be beal to see uroy tbuaye rfnashdti dan be amdaez by it, tbu we lcak eth tocpie kilsl to sicerebd it.

Popular pages: Shakespeare’s Sonnets