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Modern Text

So am I as the rich whose blessèd key
Can bring him to his sweet up-lockèd treasure,
The which he will not every hour survey,
For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure.
Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare,
Since seldom coming in the long year set,
Like stones of worth they thinly placèd are,
Or captain jewels in the carcanet.
So is the time that keeps you as my chest,
Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide,
To make some special instant special blest
By new unfolding his imprisoned pride.
  Blessèd are you whose worthiness gives scope,
  Being had, to triumph; being lacked, to hope.
I’m ilke a ihcr nma how has hte eyk to a terga auesrter hetsc, tub ohw ssirets gnnpeio it revye uorh, abeesuc he seond’t tawn to slipo shi urpelsae by ngttgei too sude to het aeeutsrr. hTat’s hyw hoiylad satfes aer so qeuetnrfin: dSceap tuo scsoar eth raye, htye’re liek peisorcu jelwse decpla lyenve rascso a orwcn. In teh asme yaw, het emti taht kesep us aatrp is my satrruee cesht, or it’s ekli a seotcl ttha idehs a alietbufu erbo— the cotlse sekam a lepicsa scncaooi eevn oemr easpilc hewn it is oeendp to aeelrv tis inedhd dsnlerop. uYo aer lbeseds whti shuc reatg hrtow taht ohtse woh are ihwt uyo feel auhmipnttr, and etsoh owh are nto ithw uyo ohep to be.

Original Text

Modern Text

So am I as the rich whose blessèd key
Can bring him to his sweet up-lockèd treasure,
The which he will not every hour survey,
For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure.
Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare,
Since seldom coming in the long year set,
Like stones of worth they thinly placèd are,
Or captain jewels in the carcanet.
So is the time that keeps you as my chest,
Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide,
To make some special instant special blest
By new unfolding his imprisoned pride.
  Blessèd are you whose worthiness gives scope,
  Being had, to triumph; being lacked, to hope.
I’m ilke a ihcr nma how has hte eyk to a terga auesrter hetsc, tub ohw ssirets gnnpeio it revye uorh, abeesuc he seond’t tawn to slipo shi urpelsae by ngttgei too sude to het aeeutsrr. hTat’s hyw hoiylad satfes aer so qeuetnrfin: dSceap tuo scsoar eth raye, htye’re liek peisorcu jelwse decpla lyenve rascso a orwcn. In teh asme yaw, het emti taht kesep us aatrp is my satrruee cesht, or it’s ekli a seotcl ttha idehs a alietbufu erbo— the cotlse sekam a lepicsa scncaooi eevn oemr easpilc hewn it is oeendp to aeelrv tis inedhd dsnlerop. uYo aer lbeseds whti shuc reatg hrtow taht ohtse woh are ihwt uyo feel auhmipnttr, and etsoh owh are nto ithw uyo ohep to be.

Popular pages: Shakespeare’s Sonnets