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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539111" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonet LIV</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539111" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem<br> By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!<br> The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem<br> For that sweet odour which doth in it live.<br> The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye<br> As the perfumed tincture of the roses,<br> Hang on such thorns and play as wantonly<br> When summer's breath their masked buds discloses:<br> But, for their virtue only is their show,<br> They live unwoo'd and unrespected fade,<br> Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so;<br> Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made:<br> And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,<br> When that shall fade, my verse distills your truth.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=William+Shakespeare">William Shakespeare</a></strong></div>

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