My lover seems fairer than day
And all that’s grander or serene
Be duller than the leaves of May
Whose golden states do mock the green,
Though her soul be dark as the night.

My lover do as lilacs please
And all that’s merrier and sweet,
Be so boundless in her to grace,
For happy knights to meet and greet,
Though her coldness be just a blight.

My lover would as parrots sing
And all that seems louder or great,
Be as compared,just useless things
That look with both,envy and hate,
Yet she be quite to depth and height.


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