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Astrophil and Stella

Sonnet 43

Fair eyes, sweet lips, dear heart, that foolish I 
Could hope, by Cupid's help, on you to pray, 
Since to himself he doth your gifts apply, 
As his main force, choice sport, and easeful stay! 
   For when he will see who dare him gainsay, 
Then with those eyes he looks: lo, by and by 
Each soul doth at love's feet his weapons lay, 
Glad if for her he give them leave to die. 
   When he will play, then in her lips he is, 
Where, blushing red, that love's self them do love, 
With either lip he doth the other kiss; 
But when he will, for quiet's sake, remove 
   From all the world, her heart is then his room, 
   Where well he knows no man to him can come.  
Sir Philip Sidney

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