That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect, <br />For slander's mark was ever yet the fair, <br />The ornament of beauty is suspect, <br />A crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air. <br />So thou be good, slander doth but approve, <br />Thy worth the greater being wooed of time, <br />For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love, <br />And thou present'st a pure unstained prime. <br />Thou hast passed by the ambush of young days, <br />Either not assailed, or victor being charged, <br />Yet this thy praise cannot be so thy praise, <br />To tie up envy, evermore enlarged, <br />If some suspect of ill masked not thy show, <br />Then thou alone kingdoms of hearts shouldst owe.<br /><br />William Shakespeare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-70-that-thou-art-blamed-shall-not-be-thy-defect/
