- description
- # Sonnet 40
## Overview
This is [Sonnet 40](arke:01KG6S4BK7YHM7NM0YT7A64E7Q), a poem of the sonnet type, extracted from the text file [pdf-01KG6Q7Q25RHMFT3SJXPV18VFF.txt](arke:01KG6S2X2EBB305ENM00G16GWA). It is part of the [Venus and Adonis, Lucrece, Sonnets, and Pericles (Facsimile Editions)](arke:01KG6S3KNZT62WVVW4VT384KPF) poetry collection, which is included in the [PDF Workflow Main Test 2026-01-30T00:26:53](arke:01KG6NWQ2H2K4PGG7H4ZHYCZ3Y) collection. The sonnet was extracted and labeled on January 30, 2026.
## Context
[Sonnet 40](arke:01KG6S4BK7YHM7NM0YT7A64E7Q) is positioned between [Sonnet 39](arke:01KG6S4BK7VXJMYW5DVZRRQE2S) and [Sonnet 41](arke:01KG6S4BK86475RS29EQEMMF6W) within the [Venus and Adonis, Lucrece, Sonnets, and Pericles (Facsimile Editions)](arke:01KG6S3KNZT62WVVW4VT384KPF) collection, a compilation of William Shakespeare's works in facsimile editions. This collection includes prefatory material, textual analysis, and historical context for each work. The original text file was processed as part of a main network test conducted on January 30, 2026.
## Contents
[Sonnet 40](arke:01KG6S4BK7YHM7NM0YT7A64E7Q) consists of 14 lines, beginning with "Take all my loues, my loue, yea take them all," and ending with "Kill me with spights yet we must not be foes." The sonnet explores themes of love, forgiveness, and betrayal, as the speaker addresses a beloved who has taken away his loves. The poem grapples with the pain of love's wrongdoings and the complex emotions of grief and reconciliation.
- description_generated_at
- 2026-01-30T06:26:20.453Z
- description_model
- gemini-2.5-flash-lite
- description_title
- Sonnet 40
- end_line
- 10931
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T06:23:29.732Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 10914
- text
- Ake all my loues, my loue, yea take them all,
What hast thou then more then thou hadst before?
No loue, my loue, that thou maist true loue call,
All mine was thine, before thou hadst this more:
Then if for my loue, thou my loue receiuest,
I cannot blame thee, for my loue thou visst,
But yet be blam’d, if thou this selse deceauest
By willfull taste of what thy selse resfuest.
I doe sorgiue thy robb’ric gentle theese
Although thou steale thee all my poverty:
And yet loue knowes it is a greater griefse
To beare loues wrong, then hates knowne iniury.
Lascuious grace, in whom all il wel showes,
Kill me with spights yet we must not be foes.
41
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- title
- Sonnet 40