Sonnet 103
Alack! what poverty my Muse brings
forth
«William Shakespeare»
Alack what poverty my muse brings forth,
That having such a
scope to show her pride,
The argument all bare
is of more worth
Than when it hath my
added praise beside.
O blame me not if I
no more can write!
Look in your glass
and there appears a face,
That over-goes my
blunt invention quite,
Dulling my lines, and
doing me disgrace.
Were it not sinful
then striving to mend,
To mar the subject
that before was well?
For to no other pass
my verses tend,
Than of your graces
and your gifts to tell.
And more, much more
than in my verse can sit,
Your own glass shows
you, when you look in it
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