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William Shakespeare : Sonnet 138

When my love swears that she is made of truth,
I do believer her, though I know she lies1,
That she might think me some untutor'd youth,
Unlearned in the world's false subtleties.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue:
On both sides thus is simple truth supprest.
But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
O, love's best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love loves not to have years told:
	Therefore I lie with her and she with me,
	And in our faults by lies, we flatter'd be.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616)	P. 1609

 
FOOTNOTES
1 punning on lies with as in sleeping with (other men) and being unfaithful
 

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