Luyện nghe bài hát Sonnet 20

A woman's face with own hand painted
Hast thou the mistress of my passion
A woman's heart but not acquainted
shifting change as is false women's fashion

An eye more than theirs less false in rolling
Gilding the object whereupon it
A man in hue all in his controlling
Which steals men's eyes and women's amazeth

And for a wert thou first created
nature as she wrought thee fell a-doting
And by me of thee defeated
By one thing to my purpose nothing

But since she prick'd thee out for women's
Mine be thy love and thy use their treasure