Shakespeare Sonnet Generator

Sonnet #155

by William Shakespeare
Time, life to thee. Devouring Time, aught to show appear: That love and.
Siren I drunk of Siren my silence so; I may seem long hence your.
I, the world-without-end hour Whilst I, do believe my dear love.
I say they err I his palate urge, As, to the farthest from.
I when from thee I despite thy fair imperfect shade Through.
Will' hast thy 'Will,' And 'Will' fickle glass, and make some.
I thou lovest, and I his memory: But thou, whose confine.
I acquainted, Upon thy part I what is wanting, And so.
I from me was I of many, lives sweet. Then let me to each by that sweet.
I this wide universe I so, being woo'd of flower, or none, none could.
I come; so shall I blind soul that ease we must not sick Muse do thy.
I and yet am I true things rare That heaven's sun of absence been From.
I loss with store; When I chide, The guilty goddess go; My mistress.
Death thou owest; Nor shall Death I was nourish'd by. This thou the.
Regenerate Sonnet