Sonnet 20

　　A woman's face with Nature's own hand painted

　　Hast thou，the master-mistress of my passion；

　　A woman's gentle heart，but not acquainted

　　With shifting change as is false women's fashion；

　　An eye more bright than theirs，less false in rolling，

　　Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth；

　　A man in hew，all hews in his controlling，

　　Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.

　　And for a woman wert thou first created，

　　Till nature as she w