William Shakespeare
Warwickshire
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Sonnet Xlviii

Rating: 3.9
How careful was I, when I took my way,
Each trifle under truest bars to thrust,
That to my use it might unused stay
From hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust!
But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are,
Most worthy of comfort, now my greatest grief,
Thou, best of dearest and mine only care,
Art left the prey of every vulgar thief.
Thee have I not lock'd up in any chest,
Save where thou art not, though I feel thou art,
Within the gentle closure of my breast,
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COMMENTS
* Sunprincess * 17 September 2015
....a poem with some deep expressions of love, very nice ?
0 1 Reply
Brian Jani 26 April 2014
Awesome I like this poem, check mine out 
0 1 Reply

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