Sonnet #20

Sonnet #20

XX.br /br /A woman's face with Nature's own hand paintedbr /Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;br /A woman's gentle heart, but not acquaintedbr /With shifting change, as is false women's fashion;br /An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,br /Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;br /A man in hue, all 'hues' in his controlling,br /Much steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.br /And for a woman wert thou first created;br /Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,br /And by addition me of thee defeated,br /By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.br /But since she prick'd thee out for women's pleasure,br /Mine be thy love and thy love's use their treasure.

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