Explore "Sonnets of Shakespeare's Ghost" by Gregory Thornton on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The wise world saith I not unlock'd my heart / When I of thee and thy dear love did write, / And would each word of mine to false convert, / Doing my simple sense a double spite.
It saith thou wert but shadow born of nought, / But vain creation of an apish rhyme, / While, Fashion's fool, my strain'd invention sought / To better them who best did please the time.