Shakespeare Sonnet Generator

Sonnet #155

by William Shakespeare
Nature, sweet self grow'st; If Nature, that doth lose name no.
I I noted, yet I forfeit, so oft predict that put'st forth.
Nature away. Let those whom Nature single life? Ah! if it is not love Which.
Nature, sweet self grow'st; If Nature, of great mind.
Saturn laugh'd and love had stol'n of such thorns and.
I so profound abysm I what woman's gentle numbers to.
I so; but since I in me, The scope affords. 'Fair, kind, and heart Have.
I than enough am I the style, And arts with feasting on form should.
Nature, sweet self grow'st; If Nature, of a painted new: Speak of wrinkles.
I to see till I add the morning have sworn thee did know His rider.
Time my sight, Where wasteful Time hath the world, with his.
I brow; For what care I what eyes thy mind; Those that.
I oft predict that I thou wilt take, Thou usurer, that life shall.
December's days seen! What old December's have no end: Mine.
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