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The louer that fled loue now folowes it with his harme.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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The louer that fled loue now folowes it with his harme.

Somtime I fled the fire, that me so brent,
By sea, by land, by water, and by wynde:
And now, the coales I folow, that be quent,
From Douer to Calais, with willing minde,
Lo, how desire is both furth sprong, and spent:
And he may see, that whilom was so blinde:
And all his labour, laughes he now to scorne,
Meashed in the breers, that erst was onely torne.