Was us'd in giving gentle doom; CXLVI. Poor soul,77 the centre of my sinful earth, Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body's end? So shalt thou feed on death, that feeds on men, And, death once dead, there's no more dying then. "Poor soul, &c.] The two first lines of this sonnet are thus given in the old copy; Poor soul, the center of my sinful earth, My sinful earth these rebel powers that thee array." The emendation is Malone's. CXLVII. My love is as a fever, longing still My thoughts and my discourse as mad men's are, Who art as black as hell, as dark as night. CXLVIII. my O me! what hath love eyes put in head, Which have no correspondence with true sight? Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled, That censures78 falsely what they see aright? If that be fair whereon my false dote, What means the world to say it is not so? If it be not, then love doth well denote Love's eye eyes is not so true as all men's: no. How can it? O how can Love's eye 78 censures] i. e. estimates. be true. That is so vex'd with watching and with tears? O cunning Love! with tears thou keep'st me blind, CXLIX. Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not, When I, against myself, with thee partake ?79 Do I not think on thee, when I forgot Am of myself, all tyrant, for thy sake? Who hateth thee that I do call my friend? On whom frown'st thou that I do fawn upon? Nay if thou low'rst on me, do I not spend Revenge upon myself with present moan? What merit do I in myself respect, That is so proud thy service to despise, When all my best doth worship thy defect, Commanded by the motion of thine eyes? But, love, hate on, for now I know thy mind; Those that can see thou lov'st, and I am blind. CL. O, from what power hast thou this powerful might, With insufficiency my heart to sway? To make me give the lie to my true sight, And swear that brightness doth not grace the day? Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill, 79 partake] i. e. take part. That in the very refuse of thy deeds CLI. state; Love is too young to know what conscience is; Yet who knows not, conscience is born of love? Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,80 Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove. For thou betraying me, I do betray My nobler part to my gross body's treason; My soul doth tell my body that he may Triumph in love; flesh stays no farther reason; But rising at thy name, doth point out thee As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride, He is contented thy poor drudge to be, To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side. No want of conscience hold it that I call Her-love, for whose dear love I rise and fall. CLII. In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn, But thou art twice forsworn, to me love swearing; 80 amiss] i. e. fault. In act thy bed-vow broke, and new faith torn, ness, Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy; CLIII. Cupid laid by his brand, and fell asleep : And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove But at my mistress' eye love's brand new-fir'd, The boy for trial needs would touch my breast; I sick withal, the help of bath desir'd, |