Sonnet #110

Alas 'tis true, I hv gone here & thr,
& made my self a motley 2 d view,
Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap wot is most dear,
Made old offences of affections nu.
Most true it is, th@ I hv looked on truth
Askance & strangely: bt by all above,
These blenches gave my heart another Uth,
& worse essays proved thee my best of luv.
Now all is done, hv wot shl hv no end,
Mine appetite I never more will grind
On nuer proof, 2 try an older friend,
A god in luv, 2 whom I am confined.
Then give me welcome, next my heaven d best,
Even 2 thy pure & most most loving breast.
See Original Sonnet

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, 110, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, 116, 117, 118, 119, 120, 121, 122, 123, 124, 125, 126, 127, 128, 129, 130, 131, 132, 133, 134, 135, 136, 137, 138, 139, 140, 141, 142, 143, 144, 145, 146, 147, 148, 149, 150, 151, 152, 153, 154,