My Fairest Fair
There is, they say, no sweetest rose,
There is no fairest face; for fancy grows
Its own deceiver.
But, right or wrong, what does love care?
I say, " World over, only one's all fair, "
And so believe her.
There is no fairest face; for fancy grows
Its own deceiver.
But, right or wrong, what does love care?
I say, " World over, only one's all fair, "
And so believe her.
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