BESHREW that heart
that makes my heart to groan |
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For that deep wound it gives my friend and
me! |
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Is t not enough to torture me alone, |
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But slave to slavery my sweetst friend
must be? |
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Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken, |
5 |
And my next self thou harder hast engrossd: |
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Of him, myself, and thee, I am forsaken; |
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A torment thrice threefold thus to be crossd. |
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Prison my heart in thy steel bosoms
ward, |
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But then my friends heart let my poor
heart bail; |
10 |
Whoeer keeps me, let my heart be his
guard; |
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Thou canst not then use rigour in my jail: |
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And yet thou wilt; for I, being
pent in thee, |
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Perforce am thine, and all that
is in me. |
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