William Shakespeare's Sonnets

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Author: William Shakespeare

Sonnet 66

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 guilded honour 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.
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Chicago: William Shakespeare, "Sonnet 66," Literature Reference Library Preview in Original Sources, accessed August 8, 2022, http://www.originalsources.com/Document.aspx?DocID=4LWBWMM82B1KGB4.

MLA: Shakespeare, William. "Sonnet 66." Literature Reference Library Preview, in , Original Sources. 8 Aug. 2022. http://www.originalsources.com/Document.aspx?DocID=4LWBWMM82B1KGB4.

Harvard: Shakespeare, W, 'Sonnet 66' in Literature Reference Library Preview. cited in , . Original Sources, retrieved 8 August 2022, from http://www.originalsources.com/Document.aspx?DocID=4LWBWMM82B1KGB4.