Sonnet 40: Take all my loves, my love, yea take them all

1Take all my loves, my love, yea take them all;

2What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?

3No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call;

4All mine was thine, before thou hadst this more.

5Then, if for my love, thou my love receivest,

6I cannot blame thee, for my love thou usest;

7But yet be blam'd, if thou thy self deceivest

8By wilful taste of what thyself refusest.

9I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief,

10Although thou steal thee all my poverty:

11And yet, love knows it is a greater grief

12To bear love's wrong, than hate's known injury.

13 Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,

14 Kill me with spites yet we must not be foes.