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39

O, how thy worth with manners may I sing

When thou art all the better part of me?

What can mine own praise to mine own self bring,

And what is’t but mine own when I praise thee?

Even for this, let us divided live

And our dear love lose name of single one,

That by this separation I may giv

That due to thee which thou deserv’st alone

O absence, what a torment wouldst thou prove

Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave

To entertain the time with thoughts of love,

Which time and thoughts so sweetly doth deceive.

And that thou teachest how to make one twain

By praising him here who doth hence remain. uMkrBxpvlMTmhT5RsWYEIT+AMrGEvv/xHDn5ESpIjG55o725u8qDxwDKaPcGTPoM

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