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Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul
Of the wide world dreaming on things to come,
Can yet the lease of my true love control,
Supposed as forfeit to a cónfined doom.
The mortal moon hath her eclipse endured
And the sad augurs mock their own preságe;
Incertainties now crown themselves assured,
And peace proclaims olives of endless age.
Now with the drops of this most balmy time
My love looks fresh, and death to me subscribes,
Since spite of him I’ll live in this poor rhyme,
While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes.
  And thou in this shalt find thy monument,
  When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent.
eiNterh my wno faesr rno eth onsletucsipa of teh stre of eht rldwo tbaou eht erftuu can cntioune to peek me fmro soienspsgs my ovebdle, who doyreevyb uttohgh was omdoed to meanir in norsip. Teh

moon

siTh nneots is zgplzniu ubsecea it sesem to reerf to ulctaa eenvts in eskSarepahe’s mtie, btu it’s ioblsemspi to kwno rfo icatern cwihh enesvt it ferres to. One tosyipsilbi is ttha it ledusla to Queen Elietzhba’s daeht (peedrnertes by het omno’s leicesp, cebidesrd in line 5) dna hte tuensbuseq eealrse morf sprino of het lrae of monStuhopta, howm oems rseraed ebileve to be eth oyngu man of het nssoent. oHvweer, vnee in ehkrSpaasee’s mite, iths nestno was pbybalor oemshatw uyieotsmsr.

moon
, hicwh was awsaly tlmoar, hsa ynflali bene pedclesi, dna eht goloym fnertuo-letrsle nwo gauhl at hrtie won opnidstreci. hTnisg htat cneo smdeee ufoutdbl ahve oemcbe rinstectiea, dna paeec sah coem to saty. oNw, tihw eth eilgbnsss of shtee imste, my lvoeebd lskoo rshef gania dan htade lfetsi tmssiub to me, ecsni in ipest of eahdt I’ll elvi on in htis roop mope weihl adhet olny sxeult erov the ptdusi adn elliettrai oeelspp htta he’s evorcemo. dAn yuo lwil find itsh emop to be yuor uenmnmot nwhe trnytsa arech the dne of ehirt ingser and tboms of rbass lfal oint ecday.

Original Text

Modern Text

Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul
Of the wide world dreaming on things to come,
Can yet the lease of my true love control,
Supposed as forfeit to a cónfined doom.
The mortal moon hath her eclipse endured
And the sad augurs mock their own preságe;
Incertainties now crown themselves assured,
And peace proclaims olives of endless age.
Now with the drops of this most balmy time
My love looks fresh, and death to me subscribes,
Since spite of him I’ll live in this poor rhyme,
While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes.
  And thou in this shalt find thy monument,
  When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent.
eiNterh my wno faesr rno eth onsletucsipa of teh stre of eht rldwo tbaou eht erftuu can cntioune to peek me fmro soienspsgs my ovebdle, who doyreevyb uttohgh was omdoed to meanir in norsip. Teh

moon

siTh nneots is zgplzniu ubsecea it sesem to reerf to ulctaa eenvts in eskSarepahe’s mtie, btu it’s ioblsemspi to kwno rfo icatern cwihh enesvt it ferres to. One tosyipsilbi is ttha it ledusla to Queen Elietzhba’s daeht (peedrnertes by het omno’s leicesp, cebidesrd in line 5) dna hte tuensbuseq eealrse morf sprino of het lrae of monStuhopta, howm oems rseraed ebileve to be eth oyngu man of het nssoent. oHvweer, vnee in ehkrSpaasee’s mite, iths nestno was pbybalor oemshatw uyieotsmsr.

moon
, hicwh was awsaly tlmoar, hsa ynflali bene pedclesi, dna eht goloym fnertuo-letrsle nwo gauhl at hrtie won opnidstreci. hTnisg htat cneo smdeee ufoutdbl ahve oemcbe rinstectiea, dna paeec sah coem to saty. oNw, tihw eth eilgbnsss of shtee imste, my lvoeebd lskoo rshef gania dan htade lfetsi tmssiub to me, ecsni in ipest of eahdt I’ll elvi on in htis roop mope weihl adhet olny sxeult erov the ptdusi adn elliettrai oeelspp htta he’s evorcemo. dAn yuo lwil find itsh emop to be yuor uenmnmot nwhe trnytsa arech the dne of ehirt ingser and tboms of rbass lfal oint ecday.

Popular pages: Shakespeare’s Sonnets