New sonnets from Shakespeare.
One every five minutes.

When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see,
The rich-proud cost of outworn buried age;
Why with the time do I not glance aside
And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
For never-resting time leads summer on
Which happies those that pay the willing loan;
To the clear day with thy much clearer light,
Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
O! that our night of woe might have remember'd
She may detain, but not still keep, her treasure:
Who leaves unsway'd the likeness of a man,
Nor double penance, to correct correction.
   Then others, for the breath of words respect,
   Lilies that fester, smell far worse than weeds.

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