Luyện nghe bài hát Sonnet 20

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

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

And for a woman wert thou created
Till nature as she wrought fell a-doting
And by addition me of defeated
By adding one thing to my nothing

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