Lyrics of “True in Love”
So it is not with me, as with that Muse,
Stirr’d by a painted beauty to his verse,
I will not praise, that purpose not to sell.
Let them say more that like of hearsay well;
Who heaven itself for ornament doth use,
And every fair with his fair doth rehearse;
I will not praise, that purpose not to sell.
With sun and moon, with earth and sea’s rich gems,
Let them say more that like of hearsay well;
I will not praise, that purpose not to sell.
O! let me, true in love, but truly write,
And then believe me, my love is as fair
As any mother’s child, though not so bright
As those gold candles fix’d in heaven’s air:
Making a couplement of proud compare,
With April’s first-born flowers, and all things rare
With sun and moon, with earth and sea’s rich gems,
That heavens’s air in this huge rondure hems.
Let them say more that like of hearsay well;
I will not praise, that purpose not to sell.
The original lines from Shakepeare’s Sonett XXI
So it is not with me, as with that Muse,
Stirr’d by a painted beauty to his verse,
Who heaven itself for ornament doth use,
And every fair with his fair doth rehearse;
Making a couplement of proud compare,
With sun and moon, with earth and sea’s rich gems,
With April’s first-born flowers, and all things rare
That heavens’s air in this huge rondure hems.
O! let me, true in love, but truly write,
And then believe me, my love is as fair
As any mother’s child, though not so bright
As those gold candles fix’d in heaven’s air:
Let them say more that like of hearsay well;
I will not praise, that purpose not to sell.