Ah, wherefore with infection should he live...
Sonnet 67Ah! wherefore with infection should he live,
And with his presence grace impiety, That sin by him advantage should achieve And lace itself with his society? Why should false painting imitate his cheek And steal dead seeing of his living hue? Why should poor beauty indirectly seek Roses of shadow, since his rose is true? Why should he live, now Nature bankrupt is, Beggar'd of blood to blush through lively veins? For she hath no exchequer now but his, And, proud of many, lives upon his gains. O, him she stores, to show what wealth she had In days long since, before these last so bad. |
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(Continuing from theme of last sonnet)
Why should he live in all this grossness, making sin and wrong seem good by his very association with them? How dare portrait painters try to imitate his beauty in dead representations of him? Why should people less beautiful try to imitate him –what’s the point when he’s the Real McCoy? Why does he have to live in this lack-lustre age?
Nature’s poured all her resources into him, and has none left over for anyone else, that’s why. She has to show him off so we can see what riches of loveliness she had in the old days, before she spent it all.
Why should he live in all this grossness, making sin and wrong seem good by his very association with them? How dare portrait painters try to imitate his beauty in dead representations of him? Why should people less beautiful try to imitate him –what’s the point when he’s the Real McCoy? Why does he have to live in this lack-lustre age?
Nature’s poured all her resources into him, and has none left over for anyone else, that’s why. She has to show him off so we can see what riches of loveliness she had in the old days, before she spent it all.