Sonnet 21 by William Shakespeare
from Dane's Brain Hosted by Dane Allred
much more Literature Out Loud at daneallred.com Sonnet XXI by William Shakespeare So is it not with me as with that Muse Stirr'd by a painted beauty to his verse, Who heaven itself for ornament doth use And every fair with his fair doth rehearse Making a couplement of proud compare, With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems, With April's first-born flowers, and all things rare That heaven's air in this huge rondure hems. O' let me, true in love, but truly write, And then believe me, my love is as fair As any mother's child, though not so bright As those gold candles fix'd in heaven's air: Let them say more than like of hearsay well; I will not praise that purpose not to sell. LITERATURE OUT LOUD -- see and hear great literature Audio narrations with synchronized visual text This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit daneallred.substack.com/subscribe
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