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The Golden Treasury

of the best songs and lyrical poems in the English Language

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43

LXX
A DILEMMA

Lady, when I behold the roses sprouting
Which clad in damask mantles deck the arbours,
And then behold your lips where sweet love harbours,
My eyes present me with a double doubting:
For viewing both alike, hardly my mind supposes
Whether the roses be your lips, or your lips the roses.
Anon.