Sonnet #48

How careful was I when I 2k my way,
Each trifle under truest bars 2 thrust,
th@ 2 my use it might unused stay
frm h&s of falsehood, in sure wards of trust!
bt thou, 2 whom my jewels trifles are,
Most worthy com4t, now my gr8est grief,
Thou best of dearest, & mine only care,
Art left d prey of every vulgar thief.
Thee hv I nt locked up in ne chest,
Save wr thou art not, though I feel thou art,
Within d gentle closure of my breast,
frm whence @ pleasure thou mayst come & part,
& even thence thou wilt b stol'n I fear,
4 truth proves thievish 4 a prize so dear.
See Original Sonnet

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

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