Tonalité : Bb minor
Verse 1
Am
D
G
E
Am
Eaug
D
C
G
E
Am
As an
D
G
Em
A
Am
D
C
G
imperfect actor on the stage
D
F
E
Who with his fear is put besides his part
Bm
E
Or some fierce thing replete with
F#m
Bm
E
D
too much rage
A
F
Bb
Whose strength abundance
A
Eaug
E
weakens his own heart
G
C
D
So I for fear of trust forget to say
G
C
A
The perfect ceremony
D
Dm
G
of love's pride
Eb
G#
And if my own love's strength
C#
seem to decay
A
Or charge it with burden
D
of my own love's might
E
Eb
Own love's might
E
A
D
G
Oh, let my books be then
E
A
D
G
the eloquence
C
G
D
An d thumb for sages of
F
E
my speaking breast
A
F#m
Who plead for love and look for
Bm
D
A
re compense
F
Bb
More than that tongue
A
Eaug
that more hath more expressed
G
C
Oh, learn to read what
F
silent love hath writ,
G
Eb
To hear with eyes belongs
A
C
F
Ab
G
to love's fine wit.
F#
F#m
G#
G#m
G#
C#
A
Mine eye hath played the painter,
E
And hath stelled thy beauty's
Eb
G#
D
C#
foaming table of my heart.
G#
C#
F#
Eb
Ab
My body is the frame
Db
F#
F
G
where int is held,
D
F
and perspective it is best
E
A
painter's art.
For through the painter
G#
F#
D
must you see his skill,
A
F#
to find where your true
D
E
image pictured lies,
Ab
Eb
F
Bb
F
which in my bosom sharp is hanging,
Bb
F
Bb
F#
still that hath his windows
B
C#
glazed with thine eyes.
F#m
A
F#m
E
Now see what good turn
C#
F#m
E
s eyes through,
A
E
eyes have done,
G#
C#
Eb
mine eyes have drawn thy shape
G#
D
C#
and thine for me.
Eb
Ab
Our windows to my breast,
Gb
C
where through the Sunday
G
lights to peep,
C
F
Bb
A
to gaze therein on thee.
D
A
Yet eyes this cunning,
G#
C
G#
want to grace their art,
E
C#m
E
they draw above what they see,
C
F
E
No, not the heart
Am
G#
D
G
as an imperfect actor
Em
A
C
on the stage.
G
C
G
An d who,
D
F
E
when his fear is put beside his heart,
A
F#m
E
B
E
Or some fizzling ripplet with too much rage,
F
A
Bb
Whose strength abundance
F
Fm
C#
G
weakens his own heart.
C#dim
C
A
So I, for fear of trust,
C
F
forget to say
C
F
C
The perfect ceremony
A
Eb
D
of love's right,
G
D
Eb
G#
And in mine own love's strength
Db
seem to decay,
D
Nor charge with birth,
E
nor my own love's might,
Eb
E
with thy might.
Am
D
G
Em
Now see what good thy elo
A
Am
C
G
quence hath done,
D
Mine eyes have blown thy
F
E
shaping bright,
I will love and look,
B
E
and my breath compends
A
Bb
More than that tongue
A
that more hath more expressed
Fm
Ddim
Eaug
E
G
C
Yet I will
F
read what silent love hath writ
G
To hear will I belong
D
to love's fine wit
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