Luyện nghe bài hát Sonnet 20

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

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

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

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