My love is strengthened, though more weak in seeming; <br />I love not less, though less the show appear; <br />That love is merchandized, whose rich esteeming <br />The owner's tongue doth publish everywhere. <br />Our love was new, and then but in the spring <br />When I was wont to greet it with my lays, <br />As Philomel in summer's front doth sing, <br />And stops her pipe in growth of riper days— <br />Not that the summer is less pleasant now <br />Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night, <br />But that wild music burthens every bough, <br />And sweets grown common lose their dear delight. <br /> Therefore like her I sometime hold my tongue, <br /> Because I would not dull you with my song.<br /><br />William Shakespeare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-102-my-love-is-strengthened-though-more-w/
