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[Come I faint thy tedious stay]
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


128

[Come I faint thy tedious stay]

Come I faint thy tedious stay

Come I faint thy tedious stay doubles each hower of the Day, the Nimble hast of winged love, makes aged time not seem to move. Did not the night, and then the light, instruct my sight, I should forget the Sunn,


129

Forget his flight. Shew not the drooping Marigold, whose Leaves like dolefull Armes doe Fold, my longing nothing can explaine, but Soule and Body rent in twaine. Did I not Moane, and sigh and groane, and talke alone, I might believe my Soule from home were gone.