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William Shakespeare – Sonnet 21
So is it not with me as with that Muse,Stirred by a painted beauty to his verse,Who heaven itself for…
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William Shakespeare – Sonnet 20
A woman’s face with nature’s own hand painted,Hast thou, the master mistress of my passion;A woman’s gentle heart, but not…
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William Shakespeare – Sonnet 19
Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion’s paws,And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;Pluck the keen teeth from the…
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William Shakespeare – Sonnet 18
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?Thou art more lovely and more temperate:Rough winds do shake the darling buds…
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William Shakespeare – Sonnet 17
Who will believe my verse in time to come,If it were filled with your most high deserts?Though yet heaven knows…
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William Shakespeare – Sonnet 16
But wherefore do not you a mightier wayMake war upon this bloody tyrant, Time?And fortify your self in your decayWith…
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