William Shakespeare
Warwickshire
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Sonnet Civ

Rating: 3.4
To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I eyed,
Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold
Have from the forests shook three summers' pride,
Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd
In process of the seasons have I seen,
Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd,
Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.
Ah! yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand,
Steal from his figure and no pace perceived;
So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
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COMMENTS
Brian Jani 26 April 2014
Awesome I like this poem, check mine out
0 2 Reply
* Sunprincess * 08 January 2014
......a beautiful sonnet of love for a friend...
1 2 Reply

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