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A Ieat Ring sent. |
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Thou art not so black, as my heart, |
Nor halfe so brittle, as her heart, thou art; |
What wouldst thou say? shal both our properties by thee be spoke, |
Nothing more endlesse, nothing sooner broke? |
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Marriage rings are not of this stuffe; |
Oh, why should ought lesse precious, or lesse though |
Figure our loves? except in thy name thou have bid it say |
I'm cheap, & nought but fashiõ, fling me'away. |
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Yet stay with me since thou art come, |
Circle this fingers top, which didst her thombe. |
Be justly proud, and gladly safe, that thou dost dwell with mee |
She that, Oh, broke her faith, would soone break thee. |
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Negative love. |
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I never stoop'd so low, as they |
Which on an eye, cheek, lip, can prey, |
Seldome to them which soare no higher |
Then vertue, or the minde to'admire, |
For sense, and understanding may |
Know, what gives fuell to their fire: |
My Love, though silly, is more brave,
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[CW: For] |