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192
The Carver.
To his Mistris.
A Carver having lov'd too long in vaine,Hewd out the portraiture of Venus Sunne
In marble rocke upon the which did raine
Small drisling drops that from a fount did runne.
Imagining the drops would either weare
His fury out, or quench his living flame:
But when hee saw it bootlesse did appeare,
He swore the water did augment the same.
So I that seeke in verse to carve thee out,
Hoping thy beauty will my flame allay.
Veiwing my lines impolish't all throughout,
Find my will rather to my love obey:
That with the Carver I my work doe blame,
Finding it still th'augmenter of my flame.
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