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XCVI.
Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness;
Some
say thy grace is youth and gentle sport;
Both grace
and faults are loved of more and less;
Thou makest
faults graces that to thee resort.
As on the finger
of a throned queen
The basest jewel will be well
esteem'd,
So are those errors that in thee are seen
To truths translated and for true things deem'd.
How
many lambs might the stem wolf betray,
If like a lamb
he could his looks translate!
How many gazers mightst
thou lead away,
If thou wouldst use the strength of
all thy state!
But do not so; I love thee in such
sort
As, thou being mine, mine is thy good report.
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