Sonnet #127

In d old age black was nt counted fair,
/ if it were it bore nt beautyz name:
bt now is black beautyz successive heir,
& beauty sl&ered wiv a bastard shame,
4 since each h& hath put on naturez power,
Fairing d foul wiv artz false borrowed face,
Sweet beauty hath no name no holy bower,
bt is profaned, if nt lives in disgrace.
thr4e my mistress' eyes R raven black,
Her eyes so suited, & they mourners Cm,
@ such who nt born fair no beauty lack,
Sl&ering creation wiv a false esteem,
Yet so they mourn becoming of thr woe,
th@ every tongue says beauty shud look so.
See Original Sonnet

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

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