Sonnet 109

O, never say that I was false of heart,

Though absence seem’d my flame to qualify.

As easy might I from myself depart,

As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie:

That is my home of love; if I have ranged

Like him that travels, I return again,

Just to the time, not with the time exchanged,

So that myself bring water for my stain.

Never believe, though in my nature reign’d

All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood,

That it could so preposterously be stain’d,

To leave for nothing all thy sum of good.

For nothing this wide universe I call,

Save thou, my rose; in it thou art my all.

Don’t ever think I’ve lost my heart,

Though long away, I can’t show my flame.

I could easier leave my body than depart

From my soul, on which you have the claim.

Yours is the home. If I have strayed,

Traveler, or otherwise, I will return

At the appointed time, not be by time betrayed.

And we will pour out our tears like wine.

Don’t ever believe, even if I were ill

Or ruined in every sort of way,

That I could hold your good against evil

And simply walk away.

Absurdly nothing this universe is

Except in you it made a rose.