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Monday, May 21, 2001

Sonnet Lxxxiii

Rating: 5.0
I never saw that you did painting need
And therefore to your fair no painting set;
I found, or thought I found, you did exceed
The barren tender of a poet's debt;
And therefore have I slept in your report,
That you yourself being extant well might show
How far a modern quill doth come too short,
Speaking of worth, what worth in you doth grow.
This silence for my sin you did impute,
Which shall be most my glory, being dumb;
For I impair not beauty being mute,
When others would give life and bring a tomb.
There lives more life in one of your fair eyes
Than both your poets can in praise devise.
William Shakespeare
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COMMENTS
Brian Jani 26 April 2014
Awesome I like this poem, check mine out 
0 0 Reply
Brian Jani 26 April 2014
Awesome I like this poem, check mine out 
0 0 Reply
* Sunprincess * 18 November 2013
very nice compliment for his love... ~There lives more life in one of your fair eyes Than both your poets can in praise devise. ~
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