Sonnets, [109]. “O, never say that I was false of heart,/ Though absence seem’d my flame to qualify./ As easy might I from myself depart/ As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie./ That is my home of love; if I have rang’d,/ Like him that travels I return again,/ Just to the time, not with theh time exchang’d/ So that myself bring water for my stain./ Never believe, though in my nature reign’d/ All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood,/ That it could so preposterously be stain’d/ To leave for nothing all thy sum of good;/ For nothing this wide universe I call,/ Save thou, my rose; in it thou art my all.”

One Response to “Rose”

  1. Shakespeare’s Plants (alphabetical) « PLANTS Says:

    […] in, Sonnets, [98]; a white rose, a red rose, a third niether white or red, Sonnets, [99]; Sonnets, [109]; roses damask’d, red and white, Sonnets, [130]; earthlier happy is the rose distilled, […]

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