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Sonnet 128
Project Gutenberg eBook #1041, Shakespeare's Sonnets
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Source: Project Gutenberg eBook #1041, Shakespeare's Sonnets Source URL: https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1041 Public domain basis: Complete text of the 154 sonnets. Public domain. Coverage: Complete individual poem extracted from parent edition shakespeares-sonnets at bytes 79558-80196; checksum 08aa82bdcd5e5047583bdfe76058aa5b1bdb5845d13e0b139c40d1407770873b.
# Sonnet 128
Sonnet 128
CXXVIII
How oft when thou, my music, music play’st, Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds With thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway’st The wiry concord that mine ear confounds, Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap, To kiss the tender inward of thy hand, Whilst my poor lips which should that harvest reap, At the wood’s boldness by thee blushing stand! To be so tickled, they would change their state And situation with those dancing chips, O’er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait, Making dead wood more bless’d than living lips. Since saucy jacks so happy are in this, Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.