Luyện nghe bài hát Sonnet 20

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

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

And for a woman wert first created
nature 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 women's
Mine be thy love and thy use their treasure