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William Shakespeare, 1564-1616 [1640], Poems: vvritten by Wil. Shake-speare. Gent (Printed... by Tho. Cotes, and are to be sold by Iohn Benson [etc.], London) [word count] [S11600].
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True content. [Sonnet XXI]
So is it not with me as with that Muse,
Stird by a painted beautie to his verse,
Who heaven it selfe for ornament doth use,
And every faire with his faire doth reherse,
Making a cooplement of proud compare
With Sunne and Moone, with earth and seas rich gems:
With Aprills first borne flowers and all things rare,
That heavens ayre in this huge rondure hems,
O let me true in love but truly write,
And then beleeve me, my love is as faire,
As any mothers childe, though not so bright
As those gold candells fixt in heavens ayer:
  Let them say more that like of heare-say well,
  I will not prayse that purpose not to sell.

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William Shakespeare, 1564-1616 [1640], Poems: vvritten by Wil. Shake-speare. Gent (Printed... by Tho. Cotes, and are to be sold by Iohn Benson [etc.], London) [word count] [S11600].
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