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fair, if thou wilt register my love,

A world of volumes shall thereof arise;

Preserve my tears, and thou thyself shall prove

A second flood down raining from mine eyes;

Note but my sighs, and thine eyes shall behold

The sunbeams smothered with immortal smoke;

And if by thee my prayers may be enrolled,

They heaven and earth to pity shall provoke.

Look thou into my breast, and thou shalt see

Chaste holy vows for my soul's sacrifice,

That soul, sweet maid, which so hath honoured thee,

Erecting trophies to thy sacred eyes,

Those eyes to my heart shining ever bright,

When darkness hath obscured each other light.