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Some Shakespeare Sonnets on Love...

Those lips that Love's own hand did make,

Breath'd forth the sound that said 'I hate,'

To me that languish'd for her sake:

But when she saw my woeful state,

Straight in her heart did mercy come,

Chiding that tounge that ever sweet

Was us'd in giving gentle doom;

'I hate,' she alter'd with an end,

That follow'd it as gentle day

Doth follow night, who like a fiend
From heaven to hell is flown away.

'I hate' from hate away she threw,

And sav'd my life, saying--'Not you.'

O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head,

Which have no correspondence with true sight;

Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled,

That censures falsely what they see aright?

If that be fair wheron my false eyes dote,

What means the world to say it is not so?

if it be not, then love doth well denote

Love's eye is not so true as all men's: no.

How can it? O, how can Love's eye be so true,

That is so vex'd with watching and with tears?

No marvel then, though I mistake my view;
The sun itself sees not till heaven clears.

O cunning Love! with tears thou kepp'st me blind,

Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find.

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