Accuse me thus, that I have scanted all,
Where in I should your great deserts repay,
Forgot upon your dearest love to call,
Where to all bonds do tie me day by day,
That I have frequent been with unknown minds,
And given to time your own dear-purchased right,
That I have hoisted sail to all the winds
Which should transport me farthest from your sight.
Book both my wilfulness and errors down,
And on just proof surmise, accumulate,
Bring me within the level of your frown,
But shoot not at me in your wakened hate:
Since my appeal says I did strive to prove
The constancy and virtue of your love.
William Shakespeare
sexta-feira, 20 de outubro de 2006
Shakespeare - Sonnets 117
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Shakespeare - V. original
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