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Sonnet 151

        T   .  T    T          ,          ,           ,
      Love is too young | to know | what con|science is,
           ,      T    T   T         2     ,         ,
      Yet who | knows not con|science is born | of love?
            ,        ,        ,         ,      ,
      Then gent|le cheat|er urge | not^my | amiss,
        ,    ,       2        ,           T     T    T
      Lest guil/ty of my | faults thy | sweet self prove.
            ,        ,       ,      ,       ,
      For thou | betray|ing me,| I do | betray
          ,        ,     .  T   T    T        ,       o
      My nob|ler part | to my gross bod|y's treas|on;
       .    T    T    T        ,      ,        ,
      My* soul doth tell | my bod|y that | he may
       ,             ,      T     T    T    ,         ,
      Triumph | in love,| flesh stays no | farther | reason,
           ,       ,         ,           ,           ,
      But ris|ing at | thy name | doth point | out^thee,
          ,        ,         ,       ,               ,
      As his | triumph|ant prize,| proud of | this pride,
          ,       ,              ,     ,         ,
      He is | content|ed thy / poor drudge | to be
           ,         ,        ,       ,             ,
      To stand | in thy | affairs,| fall by*| thy side.
           ,        ,            ,         ,        ,
      No want | of con|science hold | it that | I call,
            ,          ,             ,        ,          ,
      Her love,| for whose | dear* love | I rise | and fall.

Lines 6 and 8 are hexameter
 

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