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(rFDoM)
oO William Shakespeare
Oo
Only my plague thus far
But my five wits
In faith I do not love thee
with mine eyes
nor my five senses can
For they in thee
a thousand errors note
I count my gain
Dissuade one foolish heart
But 'tis my heart
that loves what they despise
from serving thee
Who in despite of view
is pleased to dote
Sonnet CXLI
That she that makes me sin
Who leaves unswayed
Nor are mine ears
with thy tongue's tune delighted
the likeness of a man
Nor tender feeling
to base touches prone
awards me pain
Thy proud heart's slave
Nor taste nor smell
desire to be invited
and vassal wretch to be
To any sensual feast
with thee alone