William Shakespeare
1564-1616
Sonnet CXXII
Thy gift,
thy tables, are within my brain
Full character'd with
lasting memory,
Which shall above
that idle rank remain,
Beyond all date; even
to eternity:
Or, at the least,
so long as brain and heart
Have faculty by nature
to subsist;
Till each to raz'd
oblivion yield his part
Of thee, thy record
never can be miss'd.
That poor retention
could not so much hold,
Nor need I tallies
thy dear love to score;
Therefore to give
them from me was I bold,
To trust those tables
that receive thee more:
To keep an adjunct to remember thee
Were to import forgetfulness in me.
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