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 But time will these thoughts remove: Time doth work what no man knoweth. Time doth as the subject prove, With time still th'affection groweth In the faithful turtle dove.

What if you new beauties see! Will not they stir new affection? I will think thy pictures be (Image-like of saints' perfection) Poorly counterfeiting thee.

But your reason's purest light Bids you leave such minds to nourish! ''Dear! do reason no such spite!'' Never doth thy beauty flourish More than in my reason's sight.

But the wrongs love bears, will make Love at length leave undertaking. No, the more fools it do shake In a ground of so firm making, Deeper still they drive the stake.

Peace! I think that some give ear! Come no more! lest I get anger. ''Bliss! I will my bliss forbear;'' ''Fearing, Sweet! you to endanger!'' But my soul shall harbour thee.

Well begone! begone I say! Lest that ARGUS' eyes perceive you. O unjust Fortune's sway! Which can make me thus to leave you; And from louts to run away.