Sonnet 8

Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly?

Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy.

Why lov’st thou that which thou receiv’st not gladly,

Or else receiv’st with pleasure thine annoy?

If the true concord of well-tunèd sounds

By unions married do offend thine ear,

They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds

In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear.

Mark how one string, sweet husband to another,

Strikes each in each by mutual ordering,

Resembling sire and child and happy mother,

Who all in one, one pleasing note do sing:

Whose speechless song, being many, seeming one,

Sings this to thee: ‘thou single wilt prove none.’

Beautiful music here, why be so gloomy?

Sweet things with sweet things do not war.

Joy enjoys joy. But you like what you see proudly

Or has no care for you. What for?

If the beauty of music, its harmony, passion—

With love created, by love inspired—

Irks your ears, ashamed of their fashion,

It’s only because you are self-beguiled.

Look how each string, one lover to another,

Takes mutual pleasure in the beauty of the other.

They’re like two voices, two bodies, rather,

Or two minds, two melodies, two notes in one choir.

Sounding like one, being many things mingling,

They sing this to you: “By yourself, you’re nothing.”