Sonnet CXXV
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Were 't aught to me I bore the canopy, | 1
With my extern the outward honouring, | 2
Or laid great bases for eternity, | 3
Which prove more short than waste or ruining? | 4
Have I not seen dwellers on form and favour | 5
Lose all, and more, by paying too much rent, | 6
For compound sweet forgoing simple savour, | 7
Pitiful thrivers, in their gazing spent? | 8
No, let me be obsequious in thy heart, | 9
And take thou my oblation, poor but free, | 10
Which is not mix'd with seconds, knows no art, | 11
But mutual render, only me for thee. | 12
Hence, thou suborn'd informer! a true soul | 13
When most impeach'd stands least in thy control. | 14
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