Shakespeare Sonnet Generator

Sonnet #155

by William Shakespeare
I with these did play: The that ease and to each by ill report. O, what.
I journey on the way, When for the centre of self-doing crime. I am.
I in heaven find: But from will in that tells the prophetic.
April's first-born flowers, and wish would be it that love.
I call, Save thou, my rose; thy love are all too short.
I that vex thee still, To laugh'd and most dear, Made old thing to rehearse? O.
I impair not beauty being bastard be straight, though thou art as foes.
Nature, sovereign mistress over wrack, As single life? Ah! if I have.
I'll forfeit, so that other once foil'd, Is from me. Let.
I leave my love alone. Ah! purple pride Which on such substance give That.
I see down-razed And brass eternal will is no blot? Thou mayst.
I drown an eye, unused will my verse to subsist; Till each other.
Tis true,' And to the most thought itself confounded to our.
I ne'er know, but live winters cold Have from what good attending.
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