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His drink was counterfeit, as was his meat; |
Her eys which rowl towards all, weep not, but sweat. |
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What ever he would dictate, I writ that, |
But burnt my letters which she writ to me; |
And if that favour made him fat, |
I said, if any title be |
Convey'd by this, Ah, what doth it avail, |
To be the fortieth man in an entail? |
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Thus I reclaim'd my buzard love, to fly |
At what, and when, and how, and where I chose; |
Now negligent of sport I ly, |
And now as other Fawkners use, |
I spring a mistress, swear, write, sigh and weep: |
And the game killd, or lost, go talk or sleep. |
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The Will. |
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Before I sigh my last gasp, let me breath, |
Great Love, some Legacies; I here bequeath |
Mine eyes to Argus, if mine eyes can see, |
If they be blind, then, Love, I give them thee; |
My tongue to Fame; to embassadours mine eares; |
To women or the sea, my tears; |
Thou, Love, hast taught me heretofore |
By making me love her who had twenty more, |
That I should give to none, but such, as had too much before. |
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My constancy I to the Planets give, |
My truth to them, who at the Court do live; |
Mine Ingenuity and openness, |
To Jesuits; to Buffones my pensiveness;
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[CW: My] |