Sonnet 66 by William Shakespeare
from Dane's Brain Hosted by Dane Allred
literatureoutloud.com Sonnet LXVI by William Shakespeare Tired with all these, for restful death I cry, As, to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity, And purest faith unhappily forsworn, And gilded honor shamefully misplaced, And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted, And right perfection wrongfully disgraced, And strength by limping sway disabled, And art made tongue-tied by authority, And folly doctor-like controlling skill, And simple truth miscall'd simplicity, And captive good attending captain ill: Tired with all these, from these would I be gone, Save that, to die, I leave my love alone. LITERATURE OUT LOUD -- see and hear great literature Audio narrations with synchronized visual text daneallred.com 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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