Fragrance, East Wind, from the pathway Which the fair doth wend, bring thou |
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All compact of grace and beauty Is my loved one's moonlike face |
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From the doorway of the winehouse Solace for our pain seek we |
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I've limned with thy face's likeness The tablet of mine eyne |
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Flask in hand and verse-reciting, Warm with wine and laughing-eyed |
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Never once her lip of ruby Did we pree; and she is gone |
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The Universe from end to end, One moment's care unworth it is |
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Why is it my cypress unto the meads, Now Spring is here, inclineth not? |
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If that blessed bird of heaven Through my door come back again |
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Come is the festal season, With friends and roses late |
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