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That for thy right, my self will bear all wrong.
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89
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Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault,
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And I will comment upon that offence,
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Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt:
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Against thy reasons making no defence.
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Thou canst not (love) disgrace me half so ill,
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To set a form upon desired change,
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As I'll my self disgrace, knowing thy will,
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I will acquaintance strangle and look strange:
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Be absent from thy walks and in my tongue,
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Thy sweet beloved name no more shall dwell,
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Lest I (too much profane) should do it wronk:
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And haply of our old acquaintance tell.
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For thee, against my self I'll vow debate,
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For I must ne'er love him whom thou dost hate.
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90
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Then hate me when thou wilt, if ever, now,
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Now while the world is bent my deeds to cross,
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join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
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And do not drop in for an after-loss:
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Ah do not, when my heart hath 'scaped this sorrow,
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Come in the rearward of a conquered woe,
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Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
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To linger out a purposed overthrow.
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If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
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When other petty griefs have done their spite,
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But in the onset come, so shall I taste
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At first the very worst of fortune's might.
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And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
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Compared with loss of thee, will not seem so.
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91
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Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,
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Some in their wealth, some in their body's force,
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Some in their garments though new-fangled ill:
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Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse.
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And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure,
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Wherein it finds a joy above the rest,
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But these particulars are not my measure,
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All these I better in one general best.
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Thy love is better than high birth to me,
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Richer than wealth, prouder than garments' costs,
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Of more delight than hawks and horses be:
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And having thee, of all men's pride I boast.
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Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst take,
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All this away, and me most wretchcd make.
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92
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But do thy worst to steal thy self away,
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For term of life thou art assured mine,
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And life no longer than thy love will stay,
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For it depends upon that love of thine.
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Then need I not to fear the worst of wrongs,
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When in the least of them my life hath end,
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I see, a better state to me belongs
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Than that, which on thy humour doth depend.
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Thou canst not vex me with inconstant mind,
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Since that my life on thy revolt doth lie,
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O what a happy title do I find,
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Happy to have thy love, happy to die!
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But what's so blessed-fair that fears no blot?
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Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not.
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93
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So shall I live, supposing thou art true,
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Like a deceived husband, so love's face,
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May still seem love to me, though altered new:
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Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place.
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For there can live no hatred in thine eye,
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Therefore in that I cannot know thy change,
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In many's looks, the false heart's history
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Is writ in moods and frowns and wrinkles strange.
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But heaven in thy creation did decree,
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That in thy face sweet love should ever dwell,
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Whate'er thy thoughts, or thy heart's workings be,
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Thy looks should nothing thence, but sweetness tell.
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How like Eve's apple doth thy beauty grow,
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If thy sweet virtue answer not thy show.
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94
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They that have power to hurt, and will do none,
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That do not do the thing, they most do show,
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Who moving others, are themselves as stone,
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Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow:
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They rightly do inherit heaven's graces,
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And husband nature's riches from expense,
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Tibey are the lords and owners of their faces,
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Others, but stewards of their excellence:
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The summer's flower is to the summer sweet,
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Though to it self, it only live and die,
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But if that flower with base infection meet,
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