William Shakespeare. 1564–1616

Sonnet LVI.

“Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said”

SWEET love, renew thy force; be it not said  
Thy edge should blunter be than appetite,  
Which but to-day by feeding is allay’d,  
To-morrow sharpen’d in his former might:  
So, love, be thou; although to-day thou fill    5
Thy hungry eyes, even till they wink with fulness,  
To-morrow see again, and do not kill  
The spirit of love with a perpetual dulness.  
Let this sad interim like the ocean be  
Which parts the shore, where two contracted new   10
Come daily to the banks, that, when they see  
Return of love, more bless’d may be the view;  
  Or call it winter, which, being full of care,  
  Makes summer’s welcome thrice more wish’d, more rare.