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Sonnet 126: O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power

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O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power Dost hold Time’s fickle glass his fickle hour; Who hast by waning grown, and therein show’st Thy lovers withering, as thy…

Sonnet 125: Were’t aught to me I bore the canopy

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Were’t aught to me I bore the canopy, With my extern the outward honouring, Or laid great bases for eternity, Which proves more short than waste or ruining? Have I…

Sonnet 122: Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain

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Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain Full charactered with lasting memory, Which shall above that idle rank remain Beyond all date even to eternity— Or at the least,…