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LXI.
This is the actioun I intend to move
and pleye at beautyes barr but all appeale:
whils your faire eyes wer summonds first of love,
and then my lookes the lybells of lyke ȝeale,
I doe accuse yow that ȝe mak me vayle,
and restleslye dryve over my nights and dayes;
by burdings of the greifs quhilk I conceale,
quhair love dois grow, and lyfe, alas, decayes,
my tymles, aged, silver haire bewrayes
there tymles chainge by rigour and my smart;
and sence my flams with coldnes thow repayes,
contemming cairleslye all trewe deserte,
ryve thow the charters of my fainting breathe,
sen from thy skarlet lipps proceids my deat[he].
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