1/4/2023 0 Comments Sonnet full keygenShall sum my count, and make my old excuse,' If thou couldst answer 'This fair child of mine How much more praise deserv'd thy beauty's use, Were an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise. To say, within thine own deep sunken eyes, Where all the treasure of thy lusty days Then being asked, where all thy beauty lies, Will be a totter'd weed of small worth held: Thy youth's proud livery so gazed on now, To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.Īnd dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field, Within thine own bud buriest thy content,Īnd, tender churl, mak'st waste in niggarding: Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament, Thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel: That thereby beauty's rose might never die,īut thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,įeed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,
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