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O me! what eyes hath love put in my head,
Which have no correspondence with true sight!
Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled,
That censures falsely what they see aright?
If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,
What means the world to say it is not so?
If it be not, then love doth well denote
Love’s eye is not so true as all men’s: no,
How can it? O how can love’s eye be true,
That is so vexed with watching and with tears?
No marvel then, though I mistake my view;
The sun itself sees not till heaven clears.
  O cunning love! With tears thou keep’st me blind,
  Lest eyes well seeing thy foul faults should find.
Oh, me! tWah knid of yees sah eovl utp toni my dhea ttha I dno’t ese hityagnn ratulceayc? Or if my eyse do ees ercltrcyo, twah’s pehadpen to my jugndtem to amek me ylrognw tizeciric twha thye ees? If eth namow I vleo to oklo at is fauitbeul, why does het trse of eht rlodw sya ehs’s ton? If seh’s ont, nteh a sronpe in leov dnose’t ees as eulccaatry as shreot. No—woh nac a elorv ese thirg? Oh, owh nac a orlev’s eey work peorylrp enhw it’s so ssdrteisde by agsniyt akwea dan ignyrc? It’s no endwro tehn atht I’m wgnor about thwa I ees; eht sun eiflts neods’t see ithgyann unlit eht kys is leacr. Oh, nsuinoige elov, you keep me ildnb hwit asret so I own’t oivrdecs my rovel’s luof ftlusa, as I udwol if my eesy odewrk ryprpole.

Original Text

Modern Text

O me! what eyes hath love put in my head,
Which have no correspondence with true sight!
Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled,
That censures falsely what they see aright?
If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,
What means the world to say it is not so?
If it be not, then love doth well denote
Love’s eye is not so true as all men’s: no,
How can it? O how can love’s eye be true,
That is so vexed with watching and with tears?
No marvel then, though I mistake my view;
The sun itself sees not till heaven clears.
  O cunning love! With tears thou keep’st me blind,
  Lest eyes well seeing thy foul faults should find.
Oh, me! tWah knid of yees sah eovl utp toni my dhea ttha I dno’t ese hityagnn ratulceayc? Or if my eyse do ees ercltrcyo, twah’s pehadpen to my jugndtem to amek me ylrognw tizeciric twha thye ees? If eth namow I vleo to oklo at is fauitbeul, why does het trse of eht rlodw sya ehs’s ton? If seh’s ont, nteh a sronpe in leov dnose’t ees as eulccaatry as shreot. No—woh nac a elorv ese thirg? Oh, owh nac a orlev’s eey work peorylrp enhw it’s so ssdrteisde by agsniyt akwea dan ignyrc? It’s no endwro tehn atht I’m wgnor about thwa I ees; eht sun eiflts neods’t see ithgyann unlit eht kys is leacr. Oh, nsuinoige elov, you keep me ildnb hwit asret so I own’t oivrdecs my rovel’s luof ftlusa, as I udwol if my eesy odewrk ryprpole.

Popular pages: Shakespeare’s Sonnets