Continue reading with a SparkNotes PLUS trial

Original Text

Modern Text

In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But ’tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who in despite of view is pleased to dote.
Nor are mine ears with thy tongue’s tune delighted,
Nor tender feeling to base touches prone,
Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
To any sensual feast with thee alone.
But my five wits, nor my five senses, can
Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
Who leaves unswayed the likeness of a man,
Thy proud heart’s slave and vassal wretch to be.
  Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
  That she that makes me sin awards me pain.
I erasw, I don’t leov uoy twih my esey: yhTe eniotc a snudotah lawfs in ouy. tRarhe, it’s my htrea hatt lveso hawt my esey idessep; piested what uyo oolk kiel, my treha eosdt on ouy. Nro ear my ears ghdtdieel by hte sound of oryu oveci. rNo do I atwn to ebasu my eladctei seens of ohuct by ngigpro you. orN do my eenss of setat or lemls tanw to be nditive to yan tfsea of eht nsesse in hhwic yuo’re het aimn sueroc. tBu ihtenre my inarb ron my iefv nsssee acn ssaddiue my oliosfh tearh ofrm ingbe ouyr ntrevsa. My dybo adsnst erhe ikle an eptmy llhse twhi no oen to nrotlco it, eilhw my treha soge off to be oury eslav nda whdeetcr yprrepot. I gina eon gnhti fmro egibn aegulpd htiw love orf htis nmawo: The same wnoam hwo’s nmkgai me sin adwrers me thiw pnai.

Original Text

Modern Text

In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But ’tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who in despite of view is pleased to dote.
Nor are mine ears with thy tongue’s tune delighted,
Nor tender feeling to base touches prone,
Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
To any sensual feast with thee alone.
But my five wits, nor my five senses, can
Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
Who leaves unswayed the likeness of a man,
Thy proud heart’s slave and vassal wretch to be.
  Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
  That she that makes me sin awards me pain.
I erasw, I don’t leov uoy twih my esey: yhTe eniotc a snudotah lawfs in ouy. tRarhe, it’s my htrea hatt lveso hawt my esey idessep; piested what uyo oolk kiel, my treha eosdt on ouy. Nro ear my ears ghdtdieel by hte sound of oryu oveci. rNo do I atwn to ebasu my eladctei seens of ohuct by ngigpro you. orN do my eenss of setat or lemls tanw to be nditive to yan tfsea of eht nsesse in hhwic yuo’re het aimn sueroc. tBu ihtenre my inarb ron my iefv nsssee acn ssaddiue my oliosfh tearh ofrm ingbe ouyr ntrevsa. My dybo adsnst erhe ikle an eptmy llhse twhi no oen to nrotlco it, eilhw my treha soge off to be oury eslav nda whdeetcr yprrepot. I gina eon gnhti fmro egibn aegulpd htiw love orf htis nmawo: The same wnoam hwo’s nmkgai me sin adwrers me thiw pnai.

Popular pages: Shakespeare’s Sonnets