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SONG LVIII. A Round.

[Come Crown, with pitty, my hearty Pain!]

1

Come Crown, with pitty, my hearty Pain!
Inspire, with Courage my lusty Vein!

93

And when we shall entwine,
(Dearest Valentine!)
I'le spend all in thine,
Armes, again.

2

And when thou findest, my skill is such,
That for a little, I'le teach thee much,
My Hand shall rovingly,
Sooth thee, movingly
And we'le Lovingly
Take a Touch.