Monday, January 13, 2003

Sonnet 146: Poor Soul, The Centre Of My Sinful Earth Comments

Rating: 3.1

Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth,
My sinful earth these rebel powers array,
Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,
Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
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William Shakespeare
COMMENTS
Xochitl 25 May 2018

Love this one such talent

0 1 Reply
Fabrizio Frosini 01 February 2016

again... the same sonnet as in the previous page..

24 0 Reply
Brian Jani 26 April 2014

Awesome I like this poem, check mine out

1 4 Reply
Egal Bohen 02 May 2008

Of riches here brave words do ring That feed on death that death can't win Such riches are not worn by men But writ by Will, with ink and pen.

1 0 Reply
William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare

Warwickshire
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