Poem by William Shakespeare

Sonnet 37. As a decrepit father takes delight

As a decrepit father takes delight
To see his active child do deeds of youth,
So I, made lame by fortune's dearest spite,
Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth.

For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit,
Or any of these all, or all, or more,
Entitled in thy parts do crowned sit,
I make my love engrafted to this store:

So then I am not lame, poor, nor despised,
Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give
That I in thy abundance am sufficed
And by a part of all thy glory live.

Look, what is best, that best I wish in thee:
This wish I have; then ten times happy me!

1. The Church at Stratford
2. From the Rape of Lucrece
3. How Like A Winter Hath My Absence Been
4. Silvia
5. It Was a Lover and His Lass

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