Shakespeare Sonnet Generator

Sonnet #155

by William Shakespeare
Tis so, 'tis true,' And to his glory fight, And prove.
I do dispense: You are so I have given grace you are No longer yours.
I am not lame, poor, single wilt look, Shall profit thee all.
I have seen such interchange thy sake: For thee more The more doth prepare.
I, To swear against the truth once dead, there's no painting.
I accuse thee, When I break live in thine eye, Therefore.
Muses filed. I think good thoughts thou upon that made another white.
Junes burn'd, Since first I saw that one angel from far.
I pray that thou mayst bareness every thing, That heavy tears.
T but mine own when fortify yourself in thy change. In many's.
I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with hate' To me untrue, My.
I taste At first the very cruel! say they see what they sing, 'tis.
I perceive that men as burn'd, Since first conceit of hot desire Was.
Gainst my strong infection No bitterness duteous, now behold.
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