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Act I, Scene 103

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  • Shakespeare. Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth, 1430
    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 1435
    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 1440
    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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