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 heart but not acquainted
With shifting change as is women's fashion

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

And for a wert thou first created
Till nature as she wrought thee a-doting
And by me of thee defeated
By adding one thing to my purpose

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