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Pallas Athene
SONNET NO. 83
I never saw that you did painting need
And therefore to your fair no painting set;
I found (or thought I found) you did exceed
The barren tender of a poets debt:
And therefore have I slept in your report,
That you, yourself being extant, well might show,
How far a modern quill doth come too short
Speaking of worth, what worth in you doth grow,
This silence for my sin you did impute
Which shall be most, my glory being dumb;
For I impair not beauty being mute
When others would give life and bring a tomb
There lives more life in one of your fair eyes
Than both your poets can in praise devise.
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