Sonnet 79 argues that the young man owes his new poet no thanks, because everything the rival says in his praise was taken from the young man in the first place and is only being paid back.
Sonnet 79: Full Poem
Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid,
My verse alone had all thy gentle grace;
But now my gracious numbers are decay’d,
And my sick Muse doth give another place.
I grant, sweet love, thy lovely argument
Deserves the travail of a worthier pen;
Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent
He robs thee of, and pays it thee again.
He lends thee virtue, and he stole that word
From thy behaviour; beauty doth he give,
And found it in thy cheek: he can afford
No praise to thee, but what in thee doth live.
Then thank him not for that which he doth say,
Since what he owes thee, thou thyself dost pay.
Text from the 1609 Quarto, with spelling and punctuation lightly modernized.
At a Glance
Here are the key facts about Sonnet 79 for quick reference.
What Sonnet 79 Means
Sonnet 79 is the second poem of the Rival Poet group, and it narrows the field. In Sonnet 78, “every alien pen” had taken up the young man as a subject. Here, the speaker focuses on one writer, whom he calls “thy poet,” and he admits that this poet has displaced him.
The first quatrain looks back. When the speaker was the only one calling on the young man for help, his verse had all the young man’s “gentle grace.” Now his “gracious numbers,” his once graceful lines, have “decay’d,” and his “sick Muse” has given way to someone else.
The second quatrain begins with a handsome concession. The young man, as a subject, deserves the labor of a better writer than the speaker. Then, at line 7, comes “Yet.” Whatever the new poet invents about the young man, he “robs” from him and then pays back. The praise is not a gift; it is a repayment of stolen goods.
The third quatrain gives examples. The rival “lends” the young man virtue, but he found the word in the young man’s conduct. He gives him beauty, but he found it in the young man’s cheek. He has no praise to offer except what is already there. The couplet draws the conclusion: do not thank him, because what he owes you, you are paying yourself.
Sonnet 79 Line by Line
Each line, with the sense of it in plain English.
Themes
Sonnet 79 is built on a single idea, that the young man’s praise already belongs to him, and its themes follow from that idea.
Displacement
The opening lines set “alone” against “now.” The speaker once had the young man’s attention to himself, and he no longer does. He describes the change as illness and decline: his numbers are “decay’d,” and his Muse is “sick.” The complaint is quiet, but it is the emotional ground of the whole group. As later poems such as Sonnet 86 show, the speaker’s fear is less that the rival writes better than that the young man prefers him.
Praise as Debt
Much of the poem is about money. The rival “robs,” “pays,” “lends,” “can afford,” and “owes,” and the couplet settles the account: “what he owes thee, thou thyself dost pay.” In this ledger, praise creates nothing. It moves value from the young man to the poet and back again, and the poet keeps the credit. The financial language lets the speaker call the rival a thief without raising his voice.
Truth in Praise
Behind the accusation is a belief about good poetry: the best praise of the young man simply describes him. The speaker does not quite say this here, but the idea is close. The rival cannot add anything, because the young man already has whatever virtue a poet could name. Sonnet 84 states the idea outright, urging the writer to “copy what in you is writ,” and it is one of the speaker’s steadiest positions in this part of the sequence.
Form and Language
Sonnet 79 makes its case through repetition, wordplay, and the vocabulary of lending and borrowing.
Meter and Rhyme
The poem follows the usual Shakespearean pattern of three quatrains and a couplet in iambic pentameter. Several rhymes are approximate to the modern ear. “Argument” rhymes on its light final syllable with “invent,” “word” sounds only roughly like “afford,” and “pen” pairs with “again.” The couplet’s rhyme, “say” with “pay,” is exact, and it neatly links speech to payment.
“Alone,” “Grace,” and “Gracious”
The first quatrain repeats its key words. “Alone” appears in lines 1 and 2, stressing how exclusive the speaker’s position once was. “Grace” in line 2 becomes “gracious” in line 3, so that the speaker’s verse, once full of the young man’s grace, is described by the same word at the moment it fails. The repetition makes the loss sound like a thing taken away piece by piece.
The Grammar of Theft
The third quatrain uses a pattern twice: the rival gives something, and then the speaker reveals where he got it. “He lends thee virtue, and he stole that word / From thy behaviour.” The line break holds back the source of the theft for a moment, so that the reader hears “stole that word” before learning whose it was. The same trick follows with beauty: “beauty doth he give, / And found it in thy cheek.” The run-on lines act like a slow reveal.
A Closer Reading
Sonnet 79 wins its argument against the rival, but the argument is double-edged, because the same logic applies to the speaker himself.
On the surface, the poem is a neat piece of reasoning. The speaker begins by conceding everything: the young man deserves “a worthier pen,” and the speaker’s Muse is sick. Then, with “Yet,” he removes the rival’s advantage without disputing it. The rival may be a better writer, but better writing cannot help him, because there is nothing to add to the young man. Each virtue he names was “found” there. The concession costs the speaker nothing.
The poem’s tone depends on how the reader hears “thy poet.” The phrase is courteous, almost formal, and it never gives the rival a name or a quality. He is defined only by his relation to the young man. Yet the possessive is also a little pointed. He is “thy” poet now, and the speaker was once the only one who called on the young man’s aid. The phrase records the loss even as it keeps the rival at arm’s length.
The trouble is that the argument proves too much. If no poet can give the young man anything he does not already have, then the speaker cannot give him anything either. The difference, as the speaker sees it, is honesty about the debt. In Sonnet 78, he said his verse was “born of thee” and that the young man was “all my art.” He never pretended to lend. The rival, by contrast, presents his praise as a gift and expects to be thanked for it.
That is why the couplet tells the young man not to thank him. The final line is a small paradox: “what he owes thee, thou thyself dost pay.” The young man, in this picture, is paying a debt to himself, and the rival is a middleman taking the credit. The speaker’s complaint is less about rival talent than about gratitude, and the person whose gratitude he wants to redirect is the young man.
Common Questions
The questions readers ask most often about Sonnet 79, answered briefly.
Who Is Sonnet 79 Addressed To?
The young man of the Fair Youth sonnets. Sonnets 1 to 126 are generally read as addressed to him, and here he is being praised by a new poet.
Who Is “Thy Poet” in Sonnet 79?
He is the rival, the other writer now praising the young man. The poem gives no name or details, and attempts to identify him with a real contemporary remain speculation.
What Does “My Gracious Numbers Are Decay’d” Mean?
“Numbers” means verses, from the counted syllables of a metrical line. The speaker is saying that his once graceful poetry has declined, or has lost the young man’s favor.
Why Should the Young Man Not Thank the Rival?
Because the rival only gives back what he took. The virtue and beauty he praises were already in the young man, so in thanking him, the young man would be thanking someone for repaying his own property.
Where Is the Volta in Sonnet 79?
At line 7, with “Yet.” The speaker has just admitted that the young man deserves a better poet, and he turns at once to argue that the better poet steals everything he gives.
Related Sonnets
Three nearby sonnets in the Rival Poet group share this poem’s case against the rival’s praise.