letra de william shakespeare - sonnet 66 - richard mitchley
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tir’d with all these, for restful death i cry
as, to behold desert a beggar born
and needy nothing trimm’d in jollity
and purest faith unhappily forsworn
and gilded honour shamefully misplac’d
and maiden virtue rudely strumpeted
and right perfection wrongfully disgrac’d
and strength by limping sway disabled
and art made tongue-tied by authority
and folly, doctor-like, controlling sk!ll
and simple truth miscall’d simplicity
and captive good attending captain ill
tir’d with all these, from these would i be gone
save that, to die, i leave my love alone
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