New sonnets from Shakespeare.
One every five minutes.
One every five minutes.
O! lest the world should task you to recite
That am debarre'd the benefit of rest?
And fortify your self in your decay
Although in me each part will be forgotten.
Loving offenders thus I will excuse ye:
The perfect ceremony of love's rite,
And from the forlorn world his visage hide,
Robb'd others' beds' revenues of their rents.
But, for their virtue only is their show,
The one doth shadow of your beauty show,
And sue a friend came debtor for my sake;
The clear eye's moiety, and the dear heart's part:
Then if he thrive and I be cast away,
The constancy and virtue of your love.
