Sonnet 147: My love is as a fever, longing still

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



My love is as a fever, longing still
For that which longer nurseth the disease,
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
Th' uncertain sickly appetite to please.
My reason, the physician to my love,
Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,
Hath left me, and I desperate now approve
Desire is death, which physic did except.
Past cure I am, now reason is past care,
And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;
My thoughts and my discourse as mad men's are,
At random from the truth vainly expressed.
    For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
    Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on April 18, 2023

33 sec read
226

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABABCDEDFGHGII
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 598
Words 110
Stanzas 1
Stanza Lengths 14

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…

All William Shakespeare poems | William Shakespeare Books

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    "Sonnet 147: My love is as a fever, longing still" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Mar. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/41450/sonnet-147:-my-love-is-as-a-fever,-longing-still>.

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