Shakespeare Sonnet Generator

Sonnet #155

by William Shakespeare
I thrice more than I so, nor drowns with this sad mortality o'er-sways.
I with my neglect I change thy will, I will steal his thunder.
I my unkindness shaken As I thy beauty set, And you in your eyes And.
Time sweet face survey, If Time blunt invention in the better.
Will' One add to thy 'Will' One so, 'tis true,' And to come would make.
I on thee, when I first-born flowers, and love him as pitying me, Knowing.
I debt; And therefore have I and all-oblivious enmity Shall you when it.
Thou this to thee: 'thou this cross: But here's the onset.
I not boast that I bastard be recured By those errors that beauteous blessings.
I with me after I do you require. Nor dare to mine eye.
I near. From you have I 'Will' more. Let no old acquaintance of the.
I cheque thee that I laugh'd and speechless tribes: And thou none alive, That.
This come would say 'This own self too hot desire Was sleeping.
I doom and date. When I what care is grown with kings. When.
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