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Press me not to take more pleasure
In this world of sug'red lies,
And to use a larger measure
Then my strict, yet welcome size.

First, there is no pleasure here:
Coloured griefs indeed there are,
Blushing woes, that look as clear
As if they could beauty spare.

Or if such deceits there be,
Such delights I meant to say;
There are no such things to me,
Who have passed my right away.

But I will not much oppose
Unto wh......

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