The Sonnets, by William Shakespeare


122: Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain

  Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain 
  Full charactered with lasting memory,
  Which shall above that idle rank remain 
  Beyond all date even to eternity.
  Or at the least, so long as brain and heart 
  Have faculty by nature to subsist,
  Till each to razed oblivion yield his part 
  Of thee, thy record never can be missed:
  That poor retention could not so much hold,
  Nor need I tallies thy dear love to score,
  Therefore to give them from me was I bold,
  To trust those tables that receive thee more:
    To keep an adjunct to remember thee 
    Were to import forgetfulness in me.

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