The Sonnets

Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness;

Some say thy grace is youth and gentle sport;

Both grace and faults are lovʼd of more and less:

Thou makʼst faults graces that to thee resort.

As on the finger of a throned queen

The basest jewel will be well esteemʼd,

So are those errors that in thee are seen

To truths translated, and for true things deemʼd.

How many lambs might the stern wolf betray,

If like a lamb he could his looks translate!

How many gazers mightst thou lead away,

If thou wouldst use the strength of all thy state!

But do not so; I love thee in such sort,

As, thou being mine, mine is thy good report.