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Random Poem of the Day

Sonnet 114
2Drink up the monarch's plague, this flattery?
3Or whether shall I say mine eye saith true
4And that your love taught it this alchemy?
7Creating every bad a perfect best
8As fast as objects to his beams assemble?
9Oh, 'tis the first, 'tis flatt'ry in my seeing,
10And my great mind most kingly drinks it up,
12And to his pallate doth prepare the cup.
13    If it be poison'd, 'tis the lesser sin,
14    That mine eye loves it and doth first begin.


1] The sonnet's opening question continues directly from Sonnet 113. Back to Line
5] indigest] chaotic. Back to Line
6] Extrametrical, with line 8. Back to Line
11] gust] taste. is greeing] suits. Back to Line