chapter

S O N N E T S

01KG6S4CPZJ50KTSEW14Z0C8WR

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# S O N N E T S ## Overview This is a chapter titled "S O N N E T S" extracted from the text file [pdf-01KG6Q7Q25RHMFT3SJXPV18VFF.txt](arke:01KG6S2X2EBB305ENM00G16GWA). It is part of the [Venus and Adonis, Lucrece, Sonnets, and Pericles (Facsimile Editions)](arke:01KG6S3KNZT62WVVW4VT384KPF) poetry collection. The chapter contains a series of sonnets and is located between lines 11919 and 12011 of the source file. ## Context The chapter is part of a larger collection of poetry that includes facsimile editions of works by William Shakespeare. The collection is associated with the [PDF Workflow Main Test 2026-01-30T00:26:53](arke:01KG6NWQ2H2K4PGG7H4ZHYCZ3Y) collection. This chapter follows [# SHAKES-PRARES](arke:01KG6S4CPZP73GPBKD2240HQV8) and precedes [SONNERS](arke:01KG6S4D9EKTFTRX4K37SBJKRD) within the larger work. ## Contents The chapter contains several sonnets, including those numbered 92, 93, 94, 95 and 96. The sonnets explore themes of love, betrayal, beauty, and the conflict between appearance and reality. The text includes references to classical and biblical imagery, such as Eve's apple. The chapter also contains page markers indicating the original pagination of the source material.
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2026-01-30T06:26:25.462Z
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description_title
S O N N E T S
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12011
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2026-01-30T06:23:29.732Z
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11919
text
# S O N N E T S. Thy loue is bitter then high birth to me, Richer then wealth, prouder then garments cost, Of more delight then Hawkes or Horses beer And hauling thee, of all men’s pride I boast, Wretched in this alone, that thou maist take, All this away, and me most wretched make. 92 By to doe thy worst to steale thy selfe away, For yearme of life thou art assured mine, And life no longer then thy loue will stay, For it depends upon that loue of thine, Then need I not to seare the worst of wrongs, When in the least of them my life hath end, I see, a better state to me belongs Then that, which on thy humor doth depend. Thou canst not vex me with inconstant minde, Since that my life on thy revolt doth lie, Oh what a happy title do I finde, Happy to haue thy loue, happy to die! But whats so blessed faire that seares no blot, Thou maist be false, and yet I know it not. 93 So shall I line, supposing thou art true, Like a deceived husband so loues face, May still seeme loue to me, though alter’d new: Thy lookes with me, thy heart in other place, For their can line no hatred in thine eye, Therefore in that I cannot know thy change, In manies lookes, the false hearts history Is writ in moods and sronches and wrinkles strange. But heaven in thy creation did decree, That in thy face sweet loue should euer dwell, What ere thy thoughts, or thy hearts workings be, Thy lookes should nothing thence; but sweetnesse tell, How like Eaves apple doth thy beauty grow, If thy sweet vertue answers not thy show. 94 <!-- [Page 527](arke:01KG6QKD0ASHPYV2EAFB6Z7X05) --> # SHARE-SPEAKER 94 They that have powre to hurt, and will doe none, That doe not do the thing, they moft do fhowe, Who moaing others, are themfclues as ftone, Vnmooued, could, and to temptation flow: They right'y do inherit heauens graces, And husband natures ritches from expence, They are the Lords and owners of their faces, Others, but ftewards of their excellences: The fommers flowre is to the fommer fweet, Though to it felfe, it onely liue and die, But if that flowre with bafe infection meete, The bafseft weed out-braues his dignity: For fweeteft things tu'r oe fowreft by their deedes, Lillies that fefter, fmell far worfe then weeds. 95 How fweet and lonely doft thou make the fhame, Which like a canker in the fragrant Rose, Doth fpot the beautie of thy budding name? Oh in what fweets doeft thou thy finnes inclofe! That tongue that tells the ftory of thy daies, (Making lafciuious comments on thy fport) Cannot difpraife, but in a kinde of praife, Naming thy name, bleffes an ill report. Oh what a manfion haue thofe vices got, Which for their habitation chofe out thee, Where beauties vaile doth couer euery blot, And all things turnes to faire, that eies can fee! Take heed (deare heart) of this large priuledge, The hardeft knife ill vi'd doth loofe his edge. 96 Some fay thy fault is youth, fome wantoneffe, Some fay thy grace is youth and gentle fport, Both grace and faults are lou'd of more and leffe: Thou makft faults graces, that to thee refort: As on the finger of a throned Queene, The <!-- [Page 528](arke:01KG6QKCZ0E5JWM52CYYE7FC65) -->
title
S O N N E T S

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