Sonnet 146: Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth

William Shakespeare 1564 (Stratford-upon-Avon) – 1616 (Stratford-upon-Avon)

Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth,
My sinful earth these rebel powers array,
Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,
Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
Why so large cost, having so short a lease,
Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
Eat up thy charge? is this thy body's end?
Then soul live thou upon thy servant's loss,
And let that pine to aggravate thy store;
Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;
Within be fed, without be rich no more.
  So shall thou feed on Death, that feeds on men,
  And Death once dead, there's no more dying then.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

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William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare was an English playwright, poet, and actor, widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world's greatest dramatist. He is often called England's national poet and the "Bard of Avon". more…

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    "Sonnet 146: Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 20 Jan. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/41449/sonnet-146:-poor-soul,-the-centre-of-my-sinful-earth>.

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