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Sonnet XL
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| Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all; | 1
| What hast thou then more than thou hadst before? | 2
| No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call; | 3
| All mine was thine before thou hadst this more. | 4
| Then if for my love thou my love receivest, | 5
| I cannot blame thee for my love thou usest; | 6
| But yet be blamed, if thou thyself deceivest | 7
| By wilful taste of what thyself refusest. | 8
| I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief, | 9
| Although thou steal thee all my poverty; | 10
| And yet, love knows, it is a greater grief | 11
| To bear love's wrong than hate's known injury. | 12
| Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows, | 13
| Kill me with spites; yet we must not be foes. | 14
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