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Modern Text

From you have I been absent in the spring,
When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim,
Hath put a spirit of youth in everything,
That heavy Saturn laughed and leapt with him.
Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell
Of different flow'rs in odor and in hue,
Could make me any summer’s story tell,
Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew.
Nor did I wonder at the lily’s white,
Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;
They were but sweet, but figures of delight,
Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
  Yet seemed it winter still, and, you away,
  As with your shadow I with these did play.
I asw aayw orfm yuo ngirud teh rsgnip, whne plsndeid Arpil in lla ist feinyr adme egneihytrv elfe so ognyu atht eenv rnuatS, het dog of ldo age adn oignolmsse, gedlauh and elpdae loagn hiwt it. tBu trenhei hte sosng of idrsb rno eht twees sleml of all hte suirova feorlsw ulocd kmea me leef kiel it swa remums or iinesrp me to go loerwf pigckin. I awns’t zaemda by hwo ewhti eth ylil aws, nro did I apiesr het dpee edr of teh soers. yThe reew nlyo tsewe, lyno rcietups of gtdlhei, wnrad in amiioitnt of yuo, the eycaetprh of irngsp. It seemed ilke it swa ltisl nwiret and, iwth you waay, I ydepla htiw esthe leorfsw as if I rwee glaiypn htiw uroy ecefitrlon.

Original Text

Modern Text

From you have I been absent in the spring,
When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim,
Hath put a spirit of youth in everything,
That heavy Saturn laughed and leapt with him.
Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell
Of different flow'rs in odor and in hue,
Could make me any summer’s story tell,
Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew.
Nor did I wonder at the lily’s white,
Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;
They were but sweet, but figures of delight,
Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
  Yet seemed it winter still, and, you away,
  As with your shadow I with these did play.
I asw aayw orfm yuo ngirud teh rsgnip, whne plsndeid Arpil in lla ist feinyr adme egneihytrv elfe so ognyu atht eenv rnuatS, het dog of ldo age adn oignolmsse, gedlauh and elpdae loagn hiwt it. tBu trenhei hte sosng of idrsb rno eht twees sleml of all hte suirova feorlsw ulocd kmea me leef kiel it swa remums or iinesrp me to go loerwf pigckin. I awns’t zaemda by hwo ewhti eth ylil aws, nro did I apiesr het dpee edr of teh soers. yThe reew nlyo tsewe, lyno rcietups of gtdlhei, wnrad in amiioitnt of yuo, the eycaetprh of irngsp. It seemed ilke it swa ltisl nwiret and, iwth you waay, I ydepla htiw esthe leorfsw as if I rwee glaiypn htiw uroy ecefitrlon.

Popular pages: Shakespeare’s Sonnets