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Sonnet 114

           ,        ,         ,      2      ,            ,
      Or wheth|er doth | my mind,| being crowned | with you,
             ,        ,            ,            ,     ,
      Drink^up | the mon|arch's plague,| this flat|tery?
           ,        ,        ,           ,            ,
      Or wheth|er shall | I say, | mine^eye | saith^true,
       .    T    T    T       ,              ,     ,
      And that your love | taught it | this alch|emy,
           ,        ,         ,            ,    ,
      To make | of monst|ers and | things^in|digest
        ,    ,    2          ,            ,      ,
      Such cher/ubins as | your sweet*| self re|semble,
         ,       ,      ,       ,         ,
      Creat|ing eve|ry bad | a per|fect best,
           ,        ,   ,     2        ,       ,
      As fast | as ob|jects to his | beams as|semble?
          ,          ,            ,   2    ,       ,       o
      O 'tis | the first,| 'tis flat|tery in | my see|ing,
       .   T   T     T           ,       ,          ,
      And my great mind | most^king|ly drinks | it up:
            ,            ,            ,          ,          ,       o
      Mine^eye | well* knows | what with | his gust | is 'gree|ing,
           ,        ,        ,        ,          ,
      And to | his pal|ate doth | prepare | the cup:
          ,        ,          ,          ,      ,
      If it | be pois|oned, 'tis | the less|er sin
             ,     T    T    .  T           ,        ,
      That mine | eye loves it and | doth first | begin.
 
 
*lines 9 and 11 are hexameter

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