William Shakespeare. 1564–1616


“When my love swears that she is made of truth”

WHEN my love swears that she is made of truth  
I do believe her, though I know she lies,  
That she might think me some untutor’d youth,  
Unlearned in the world’s false subtleties.  
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,    5
Although she knows my days are past the best,  
Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue:  
On both sides thus is simple truth supprest.  
But wherefore says she not she is unjust?  
And wherefore say not I that I am old?   10
O! love’s best habit is in seeming trust,  
And age in love loves not to have years told:  
  Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,  
  And in our faults by lies we flatter’d be.