The speaker describes a love that is utterly without hope—and yet hope keeps tugging him along, feeding on his uncertainty. Fear and desire twist together so tightly that he can’t tell one from the other: his joy is never secure, and his dread feels like a strange kind of lift, giving his hope wings that are too heavy to fly. The more room fear gives him, the more he feels hemmed in by despair. He’s caught in a bind where love is shackled by “vain hope,” and even trying to break free leaves him suspended, imprisoned in open air. In the final couplet, he turns to Despair as a companion, calling it “sweet” and begging it to stay alive, because if despair fails, his hope will simply die of sorrow. The mood is weary and claustrophobic—a love that knows it’s going nowhere but clings to its own ache as if letting go would be even worse.
Sonnet XXVI: I Ever Love — Summary
To Despair
I ever love where never hope appears, Yet hope draws on my never-hoping care, And my life's hope would die, but for despair; My never-certain joy breeds ever-certain fears; Uncertain dread gives wings unto my hope, Yet my hope's wings are laden so with fear As they cannot ascend to my hope's sphere; Though fear gives them more than a heav'nly scope, Yet this large room is bounded with despair; So my love is still fetter'd with vain hope, And liberty deprives him of his scope, And thus am I imprison'd in the air. Then, sweet despair, awhile hold up thy head, Or all my hope for sorrow will be dead.