Sonnet 100
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Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget'st so long
To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?
Spend'st thou thy fury on some worthless song,
Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light?
Return, forgetful Muse, and straight redeem
In gentle numbers time so idly spent;
Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem
And gives thy pen both skill and argument.
Rise, resty Muse, my love's sweet face survey,
If Time have any wrinkle graven there;
If any, be a satire to decay,
And make Time's spoils despised every where.
Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life;
So thou prevent'st his scythe and crooked knife
— William Shakespeare
Le Sonnet 100 est l'un des 154 sonnets écrits par le dramaturge et poète William Shakespeare.
Texte original
[modifier | modifier le code]Texte et typographie originale :
VVHere art thou Muſe that thou forgetſt fo long,
To ſpeake of that which giues thee all thy might?
Spendſt thou thy furie on ſome worthleſſe ſonge,
Darkning thy powre to lend baſe ſubiects light,
Returne forgetfull Muſe,and ſtraight redeeme,
In gentle numbers time ſo idely ſpent,
Sing to the eare that doth thy laies eſteeme,
And giues thy pen both skill and argument.
Riſe reſty Muſe,my loues ſweet face ſuruay,
If time haue any wrincle grauen there,
If any,be a Satire to decay,
And make times ſpoiles diſpifed euery where,
Giue my loue fame faſter than time waſts life,
So thou preuenſt his ſieth,and crooked knife.
Notes et références
[modifier | modifier le code]Liens externes
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