Sonnet 126 (Sonnet CXXVI) by William Shakespeare

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O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power
Dost hold Time’s fickle glass, his sickle, hour;
Who hast by waning grown, and therein showest
Thy lovers withering, as thy sweet self growest.
If Nature, sovereign mistress over wrack,
As thou goest onwards still will pluck thee back,
She keeps thee to this purpose, that her skill
May time disgrace and wretched minutes kill.
Yet fear her, O thou minion of her pleasure!
She may detain, but not still keep, her treasure:
Her audit (though delayed) answered must be,
And her quietus is to render thee.

That concludes Sonnet 126 (Sonnet CXXVI) by William Shakespeare. Did you like William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 126 (Sonnet CXXVI)? Then, rate it below. And don’t forget to like, tweet or share William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 126 (Sonnet CXXVI) by using the Facebook and Twitter buttons below.

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