Sonnet 121 (Sonnet CXXI) by William Shakespeare

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Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed,
When not to be receives reproach of being;
And the just pleasure lost, which is so deemed
Not by our feeling, but by others’ seeing:
For why should others’ false adulterate eyes
Give salutation to my sportive blood?
Or on my frailties why are frailer spies,
Which in their wills count bad what I think good?
No, I am that I am, and they that level
At my abuses reckon up their own:
I may be straight though they themselves be bevel;
By their rank thoughts, my deeds must not be shown;
Unless this general evil they maintain,
All men are bad and in their badness reign.

That concludes Sonnet 121 (Sonnet CXXI) by William Shakespeare. Did you like William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 121 (Sonnet CXXI)? Then, rate it below. And don’t forget to like, tweet or share William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 121 (Sonnet CXXI) by using the Facebook and Twitter buttons below.

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