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<HTML><HEAD><TITLE>Sonnet CLIII</TITLE></HEAD>
<BODY><H1>Sonnet CLIII</H1>
<BLOCKQUOTE>Cupid laid by his brand, and fell asleep:<BR>
A maid of Dian's this advantage found,<BR>
And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep<BR>
In a cold valley-fountain of that ground;<BR>
Which borrow'd from this holy fire of Love<BR>
A dateless lively heat, still to endure,<BR>
And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove<BR>
Against strange maladies a sovereign cure.<BR>
But at my mistress' eye Love's brand new-fired,<BR>
The boy for trial needs would touch my breast;<BR>
I, sick withal, the help of bath desired,<BR>
And thither hied, a sad distemper'd guest,<BR>
But found no cure: the bath for my help lies<BR>
Where Cupid got new fire--my mistress' eyes.<BR>
</BLOCKQUOTE>
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