Sonnet 35: No more be griev'd at that which thou hast done
No more be griev'd at that which thou hast done:Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud:Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.All men make faults, and even I in this,Authorizing thy trespass with compare,Myself corrupting, salving thy amiss,Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are;For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense,--Thy adverse party is thy advocate,--And 'gainst myself a lawful plea commence:Such civil war is in my love and hate,That I an accessary needs must be,To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.
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