Sixty-Five Sonnets With Prefatory Remarks on the Accordance of the Sonnet with the Powers of the English Language: Also, A Few Miscellaneous Poems [by Thomas Doubleday] |
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LVI.
'Tis true her hazel eye, so gently mild,A gentler than itself hath haply seen,
Her coral lips, with ivory between,
So sweetly smiling, may have been outsmiled;
Perchance, her nut-brown tresses, waving wild
In many an artless ringlet, may bedeck
The graceful roundness of a snowy neck,
Than which, though fair, some fairer may be styled:
'Tis true my friend; but not more true it is
Than that my Mira, still, of woman kind,
Fixed in this heart, to me must dearest prove:
And sickliness of fancy call'st thou this,
Or imbecile fatuity of mind,
Or devilish enchantment? No, 'tis love!
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