Representative Poetry Online

Random Poem of the Day

Sonnet 151
2Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?
4Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove.
5For thou betraying me, I do betray
7My soul doth tell my body that he may
10As his triumphant prize; proud of this pride,
14    Her "love" for whose dear love I rise and fall.


1] Love is too young] like Cupid. Back to Line
3] urge not] do not complain about. Back to Line
6] Extrametrical, with line 8. Back to Line
8] flesh] my body, alluding to the penis. Back to Line
9] rising] becoming erect, rebelling. Back to Line
11] He] "my soul" (7). Back to Line
12] stand] become erect. Back to Line
13] No want of conscience hold it that] Judge it no lack of conscience that. Back to Line