‘Sonnet Mo 14 by Shakespeare
Infath, donot love the wth mine yes
For they nthe a thousand errors note ine» tel oe
Bettis at at ove what hey desi, a Bo TS De SNOT
ee fey oes taza wre ner we wre mango
lor are mine es with thy tongues tune lighted,
Nor ender feeling to base touches prone,
Nor tse noe sll dese tobe invited ener pane ens ne" coe eno
‘Sls stent inh TO any sensual feast with the lone Smuts: hecstsamunaeef aor
tiny five wits, or my ve senses, can
Dissuade one felch heat from serving th
re rt nes sateen
Who leaves unswayed the lkenes ofa man,
“Thy proud her’ save ed vszl wretch tobe,
‘Oni m7 Bague thus far count my ain,
Sos ume bites mative Thatshethat makes me sin award me pi.