New sonnets from Shakespeare
Two every five minutes

Ah! wherefore with infection should he live,
Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy:
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws,
And sable curls, all silvered o'er with white;
O! let me suffer, being at your beck,
To know my shames and praises from your tongue;
And grew a seeting bath, which yet men prove
The scope and tenure of thy jealousy?
What merit do I in my self respect,
Beggar'd of blood to blush through lively veins?
In others' works thou dost but mend the style,
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate,;
   Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me,
   Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell

Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
What means the world to say it is not so?
The earth can yield me but a common grave,
And like enough thou know'st thy estimate,
O! how I faint when I of you do write,
Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate
And husband nature's riches from expense;
Or durst inhabit on a living brow;
The better angel is a man right fair,
Which is not mix'd with seconds, knows no art,
When I behold the violet past prime,
Which for their habitation chose out thee,
   But then my friend's heart let my poor heart bail;
   Admit impediments. Love is not love