Shakespeare’s speaker is captivated by his beloved’s eyes, which seem to pity him even as her heart scorns him. He imagines they have dressed themselves in black, like gentle mourners, and finds their tender looks at his suffering exquisitely beautiful. He insists that neither morning sunlight on the pale eastern clouds nor the evening star in the quiet west can match how perfectly those dark, sorrowful eyes become her face. The speaker then pleads: let your heart mourn for me too, so your pity suits you as completely as your gaze does. If she grants this, he claims, he’ll swear that beauty herself is black and any face lacking her complexion is foul. The mood is a delicate blend of ache and adoration—a lover mesmerized by the very coldness that wounds him. The final couplet turns conventional beauty upside down with a playful, almost desperate logic, showing how longing reshapes what the speaker sees and values.
Sonnet 132: Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me — Summary
Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me, Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain, Have put on black and loving mourners be, Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain. And truly not the morning sun of heaven Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east, Nor that full star that ushers in the even, Doth half that glory to the sober west, As those two mourning eyes become thy face: O! let it then as well beseem thy heart To mourn for me since mourning doth thee grace, And suit thy pity like in every part. Then will I swear beauty herself is black, And all they foul that thy complexion lack.