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Original Text

Modern Text

As an unperfect actor on the stage,
Who with his fear is put besides his part,
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart;
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love’s rite,
And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay,
O'ercharged with burden of mine own love’s might.
O let my books be then the eloquence
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,
Who plead for love and look for recompense
More than that tongue that more hath more expressed.
  O learn to read what silent love hath writ!
  To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit.
keiL an rtaoc how nash’t eranlde ish esiln ftepcryle adn etofrgs his trap eacsueb of egtas rhtfgi, or keli semo gnraig lanami or hmanu heosw esscexvei osipnsa seamk it ewak, so I, seebcua I cna’t tutsr efylms, rotfeg to yas eth ntsihg a voerl hosdul asy to his dgirnal; tjus when my elov is gtnssrtoe it essme to be getgint eawk. So let my wsrgiitn aespk orf my raeht sdintae. heyT eapdl for elov erbett ahtn I cdlou if I kpoes, even if I iads rmeo and oemr lnyqleuoet. Oh, daer in teehs nilste niels teh vole I octnan exsrpes in echpes. evoL lilw veig yuo hte ihgisnt to aerd ewetbne hte isnle.

Original Text

Modern Text

As an unperfect actor on the stage,
Who with his fear is put besides his part,
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart;
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love’s rite,
And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay,
O'ercharged with burden of mine own love’s might.
O let my books be then the eloquence
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,
Who plead for love and look for recompense
More than that tongue that more hath more expressed.
  O learn to read what silent love hath writ!
  To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit.
keiL an rtaoc how nash’t eranlde ish esiln ftepcryle adn etofrgs his trap eacsueb of egtas rhtfgi, or keli semo gnraig lanami or hmanu heosw esscexvei osipnsa seamk it ewak, so I, seebcua I cna’t tutsr efylms, rotfeg to yas eth ntsihg a voerl hosdul asy to his dgirnal; tjus when my elov is gtnssrtoe it essme to be getgint eawk. So let my wsrgiitn aespk orf my raeht sdintae. heyT eapdl for elov erbett ahtn I cdlou if I kpoes, even if I iads rmeo and oemr lnyqleuoet. Oh, daer in teehs nilste niels teh vole I octnan exsrpes in echpes. evoL lilw veig yuo hte ihgisnt to aerd ewetbne hte isnle.

Popular pages: Shakespeare’s Sonnets