Sonnet 136 by William Shakespeare
If thy soul check thee that I come so near,
Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy will,
And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there.
Thus far for love my love-suit, sweet, fulfill. 4
Will will fulfill the treasure of thy love,
Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one.
In things of great receipt with ease we prove
Among a number one is reckoned none. 8
Then in the number let me pass untold,
Though in thy store’s account I one must be.
For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold
That nothing me, a something, sweet, to thee. 12
Make but my name thy love, and love that still,
And then thou lovest me, for my name is Will.
