Hello, everyone.

Today, for our second-to-last sonnet in honor of National Poetry Month, I have chosen Sonnet 23 by William Shakespeare. It’s one of my favorites for so many reasons. Primarily, though, I appreciate Shakespeare’s play on words, using them to describe his inability to put into words the love he has for another. As we have seen with other sonnets, poets have expressed a “transcending love” that goes beyond the boundaries of our earthly existence. In this case, Shakespeare is talking about a love so transcending that he has no words to describe it. In the end, Shakespeare suggests that hear with our eyes love’s fine wit. 

Beautiful. 

For those of you who have had me as your teacher (past and present) or who have already read Fossil Five, I bet you can guess what sonnet I’ve saved for the last day of this 30-day celebration…. We shall see!

Without further ado, here is Sonnet 23, by William Shakespeare.

Sonnet 23, by William Shakespeare

As an unperfect actor on the stage,
Who with his fear is put beside his part,
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart;
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love’s rite,
And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay,
O’ercharged with burthen of mine own love’s might.
O! let my looks be then the eloquence
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,
Who plead for love, and look for recompense,
More than that tongue that more hath more express’d.
O! learn to read what silent love hath writ:
To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit.