Sonnet 127 (Sonnet CXXVII) by William Shakespeare

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In the old age black was not counted fair,
Or if it were, it bore not beauty’s name;
But now is black beauty’s successive heir,
And beauty slandered with a bastard shame:
For since each hand hath put on Nature’s power,
Fairing the foul with Art’s false borrowed face,
Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower,
But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace.
Therefore my mistress’ eyes are raven black,
Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem
At such who, not born fair, no beauty lack,
Sland’ring creation with a false esteem:
Yet so they mourn becoming of their woe,
That every tongue says beauty should look so.

That concludes Sonnet 127 (Sonnet CXXVII) by William Shakespeare. Did you like William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 127 (Sonnet CXXVII)? Then, rate it below. And don’t forget to like, tweet or share William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 127 (Sonnet CXXVII) by using the Facebook and Twitter buttons below.

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