Sonnet XCV
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How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame | 1
Which, like a canker in the fragrant rose, | 2
Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name! | 3
O, in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose! | 4
That tongue that tells the story of thy days, | 5
Making lascivious comments on thy sport, | 6
Cannot dispraise but in a kind of praise; | 7
Naming thy name blesses an ill report. | 8
O, what a mansion have those vices got | 9
Which for their habitation chose out thee, | 10
Where beauty's veil doth cover every blot, | 11
And all things turn to fair that eyes can see! | 12
Take heed, dear heart, of this large privilege; | 13
The hardest knife ill-used doth lose his edge. | 14
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