William Shakespeare. 1564–1616

Sonnet LXII.

“Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye”

SIN of self-love possesseth all mine eye  
And all my soul and all my every part;  
And for this sin there is no remedy,  
It is so grounded inward in my heart.  
Methinks no face so gracious is as mine,    5
No shape so true, no truth of such account;  
And for myself mine own worth do define,  
As I all other in all worths surmount.  
But when my glass shows me myself indeed,  
Beated and chopp’d with tann’d antiquity,   10
Mine own self-love quite contrary I read;  
Self so self-loving were iniquity.  
  ’Tis thee, myself,—that for myself I praise,  
  Painting my age with beauty of thy days.