- description
- # Sonnet 52
## Overview
This entry describes Sonnet 52, a poem from a collection of Shakespeare's works. It is a sonnet, a fourteen-line poem with a specific rhyme scheme and meter, typically written in iambic pentameter. This particular sonnet is part of a larger collection titled "Venus and Adonis, Lucrece, Sonnets, and Pericles (Facsimile Editions)".
## Context
Sonnet 52 was extracted from the file `pdf-01KG6Q7Q25RHMFT3SJXPV18VFF.txt` as part of the "PDF Workflow Main Test 2026-01-30T00:26:53" collection. It follows Sonnet 51 and precedes a chapter titled "# SHAKES-PRANES.". The sonnet is presented within the context of a facsimile edition of Shakespeare's works, suggesting a scholarly or archival purpose for its digitization and inclusion in this collection.
## Contents
The text of Sonnet 52 is provided, along with its title. The sonnet explores themes of love, value, and the passage of time, using metaphors of wealth, jewels, and wardrobes to describe the preciousness of the beloved and the anticipation of their presence. The poem concludes with the lines: "Bleffed are you whose worthinesse giues skope, / Being had to tryumph, being lackt to hope."
- description_generated_at
- 2026-01-30T06:26:22.552Z
- description_model
- gemini-2.5-flash-lite
- description_title
- Sonnet 52
- end_line
- 11217
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T06:23:29.732Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 11150
- text
- 52
So am I as the rich whose bleffed key,
Can bring him to his sweet vp-locked treasure,
The which he will not eury hower furuay,
For blunting the fine point of feldome pleasure.
Therefore are feafts so sollemne and so rare,
Since fildom comming in the long yeare set,
Like stones of worth they thinly placed are,
Or captaine lewells in the carconet.
So is the time that keeps you as my cheft,
Or as the ward-robe which the robe doth hide,
To make some special instant special bleft,
By new unfouling his imprison’d pride.
Bleffed are you whose worthinesse giues skope,
Being had to tryumph, being lackt to hope.
53
VV Hat is your substance, whereof are you made,
That millions of strange shaddowes on you tend?
Since
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SONNETS.
Since every one, hath every one, one shade,
And you but one, can every shaddow lend:
Describe a Adonis and the counterfet.
Is poorly immitated after you,
On Hellens cheeke all art of beautie fet,
And you in Grecian tires are painted new:
Speake of the spring, and foyzon of the yeare,
The one doth shaddow of your beautie show,
The other as your bountie doth appeare,
And you in every blessed shape we know.
In all externall grace you haue some part,
But you like none, none you for constant heart.
54
Oh how much more doth beautie beautious feeme,
By that sweet ornament which truth doth glue,
The Rose lookes faire, but fairer we it deeme
For that sweet odor, which doth in it liue:
The Canker bloomes haue full as deepe a die,
As the perfumed tincture of the Roses,
Hang on such thornes, and play as wantonly,
When sommers breath their masked buds dislofses:
But for their virtue only is their show,
They liue vnwoo’d, and vnesfpected fade,
Die to themselves. Sweet Roses doe not so,
Of their sweet deaths, are sweetest odors made:
And so of you, beauteous and louely youth;
When that shall vade, by verse distils your truth.
55
Not marble, nor the guilded monument,
Of Princes shall out-liue this powrefull rime,
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Then vnivept stone, besmeerd with sluttish time,
When wastefull warre shall Strutues ouer-turne,
And broiles roote out the worke of masonry,
Nor Mars his sword, nor warres quicksire shall burne:
The liuing record of your memory.
Gainst
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- title
- Sonnet 52