| If mortall men so grevous paynes would taste |
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| Of love fayne woolde I frame my style |
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| Sonnett |
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| Upon the Death of the Young Lord Harrington |
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| That yeelds yow due prayse I am the meanest of manye |
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| Sonnett |
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| He that cann number by his skill or payne |
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| My harte I have oftymes bydd the beware |
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| Vauntinge sometymes how I had bynn a thralle |
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| Lett those that lyve in love, lament the lovers fitts |
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