New sonnets from Shakespeare.
One every five minutes.

Those hours, that with gentle work did frame
One of her feather'd creatures broke away,
How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
Whereon the stars in secret influence comment;
The fairest votary took up that fire
When I break twenty? I am perjur'd most;
My saucy bark, inferior far to his,
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard,
To be so tickled, they would change their state
Haply I think on thee,-- and then my state,
Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate--
Yourself to pardon of self-doing crime.
   'Tis thee,--myself,--that for myself I praise,
   Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.

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