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To his absent and loving Lesbia.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 



To his absent and loving Lesbia.

Deare heart, dear heart, dear, dear, dear heart againe,
More dear then writ can shew, or waxe can seale:
O! if thou knew the care, the woe, the paine
I felt since last I tooke from thee fair-well:
The night in black chimerick thoghts I spend,
Ere Phlegon rise, I wish the day to end.
The dark is lothsome, and the day semes long,
Because, alas, J am not where thou art:
This is not mine, but frowning Fortunes wrong,
Yet hope (deare heart) vp-holds my dying heart:
Look then for me, before few dayes take end,
Till when my thoghts to thine, I doe commend.