by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616)
Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid
Language: English
Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid, My verse alone had all thy gentle grace; But now my gracious numbers are decay'd, And my sick Muse doth give an other place. I grant, sweet love, thy lovely argument Deserves the travail of a worthier pen; Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent He robs thee of, and pays it thee again. He lends thee virtue, and he stole that word From thy behaviour; beauty doth he give, And found it in thy cheek: he can afford No praise to thee, but what in thee doth live. Then thank him not for that which he doth say, Since what he owes thee, thou thyself dost pay.
About the headline (FAQ)
Authorship:
- by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), no title, appears in Sonnets, no. 79 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Richard Simpson (1820 - 1876), "Sonnet LXXIX", 1865-6. [medium voice and piano] [text not verified]
Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (François-Victor Hugo) , no title, from Sonnets de Shakespeare, no. 79, published 1857
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2010-08-12
Line count: 14
Word count: 117