"Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts,
Which I by lacking have supposed dead;
And their reigns love and all love's loving parts
And all those friends which I thought buried.
How many a holy and obsequious tear
Hath dear religious love stolen from mine eye,
As interest of the dead, which now appear
But things removed that hidden in thee lie.
Thou art the grave where buried love doth live,
Hung with the trophies of my lovers gone,
Who all their parts of me to thee did give;
That due of many now is thine alone.
Their images I loved I view in thee
And thou, all they, hast all the all of me."
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sonnet's of william shakespeare
PoesíaA select few of my favorites from William Shakespeare