Sonnets from the Portuguese, XIII
And wilt thou have me fashion into speech
The love I bear thee, finding words enough,
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Sweet Disorder
A sweet disorder in the dress
Kindles in clothes a wantonness:
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The Hour Glass
Consider this small dust, here in the glass,
By atoms moved:
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My Pretty Rose Tree
A flower was offered to me:
Such a flower as May never bore.
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My Love Is Like to Ice
My love is like to ice, and I to fire:
How come it then that this her cold is so great
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To lose Thee
To lose thee, sweeter than to gain
All other hearts I knew.
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Come Fill The Cup
Come, fill the cup, and in the fire of spring
Your winter garment of repentance fling.
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Song
Go and catch a falling star,
Get with child a mandrake root,
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YOU SMILED
You smiled, you spoke and I believed,
By every word and smile- deceived.
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I Gave Myself To Him
I gave myself to him
And took himself for pay.
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