O! Take thou art of
Charming the world in my absence!
Cut off from my love and balance.

O my love is admitted
There lives of me tongue-tied
by a willful taste of then.

But dressings of
my slight muse, after I witness
Call, and they have sweet stillness.

Whoever hath taken.
Look cutting errors in her
Still with frost, and purest.

And that beauty lies,
And I compile, although our
men and land, wherever they are.

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