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Act I, Scene 82


  • Shakespeare. I grant thou wert not married to my Muse 1135
    And therefore mayst without attaint o'erlook
    The dedicated words which writers use
    Of their fair subject, blessing every book
    Thou art as fair in knowledge as in hue,
    Finding thy worth a limit past my praise, 1140
    And therefore art enforced to seek anew
    Some fresher stamp of the time-bettering days
    And do so, love; yet when they have devised
    What strained touches rhetoric can lend,
    Thou truly fair wert truly sympathized 1145
    In true plain words by thy true-telling friend;
    And their gross painting might be better used
    Where cheeks need blood; in thee it is abused.