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Sonnet 146: Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth

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Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth, My sinful earth these rebel powers array, Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth, Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?…

Sonnet 140: Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press

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Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain, Lest sorrow lend me words and words express The manner of my pity-wanting pain.…