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Can she excuse my wrongs with Virue's cloak? |
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Shall I call her good when she proves unkind? |
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Are those clear fires which vanish to smoke? |
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Must I praise the leaves where no fruit I find? |
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No, no where shadows do for bodies stand. |
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Thou may'st be abu-used thy sight be dim. |
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Cold loves is like to words written on sand. |
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Or to bublles wich on the waters swim. |
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If she will yield, to that which reason is, |
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It is reaons's will that loveshould be just. |
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Dear make me happy still by granting this, |
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Or cut off deleays if that I die must. |
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No where shadows for bodies stand. |
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May'st be abuused sight be dim. |
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Cold loves like to words written on sand. |
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bubles wich on waters swim. |