William Shakespeare
1564-1616
Sonnet XCIV
They that
have power to hurt, and will do none,
That do not do the
thing they most do show,
Who, moving others,
are themselves as stone,
Unmoved, cold, and
to temptation slow;
They rightly do inherit
heaven's graces,
And husband nature's
riches from expense;
They are the lords
and owners of their faces,
Others, but stewards
of their excellence.
The summer's flower
is to the summer sweet,
Though to itself,
it only live and die,
But if that flower
with base infection meet,
The basest weed outbraves
his dignity:
For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds;
Lilies that fester, smell far worse than weeds.
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The Critics' Comments:
"...the poem takes the form of a general statement about the
virtues of the great and powerful, in the octave and then, in the sestet,
applies this to the young man." [Stephen Spender, "The Alike and the Other,"
in The Riddle of Shakespeare's Sonnets. ed. Edward Hubler. NY: Basic
Books, 1962. 118.]
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