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A Sonnet.
[Hauing no cause, why in the deepest sound]
Hauing
no cause, why in the deepest sound
Of amorous seas my fraile barke dost thou swallow?
O Loue! I'le make thy crueltie to sound
Swifter from East to West then flying swallow.
Though gales of windes doe bluster in my sterne,
Yet from the gulfe my ship shall neuer part
Of thy braue might, so furious and so sterne,
Vntill my sighes doe helpe to blowe apart.
If being in a storme, my face I turne,
Then my desire is weakned by thy might:
Thy force controules my force, that striues in vaine:
I neuer shall arriue with happy turne
Into the port, and therefore, if I might,
I would let out my life in euery vaine.
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