Sonnet 99 by William Shakespeare
from Dane's Brain Hosted by Dane Allred
literatureoutloud.com Sonnet XCIX by William Shakespeare The forward violet thus did I chide: Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells, If not from my love's breath? The purple pride Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dyed. The lily I condemned for thy hand, And buds of marjoram had stol'n thy hair: The roses fearfully on thorns did stand, One blushing shame, another white despair; A third, nor red nor white, had stol'n of both And to his robbery had annex'd thy breath; But, for his theft, in pride of all his growth A vengeful canker eat him up to death. More flowers I noted, yet I none could see But sweet or color it had stol'n from thee. 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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