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SONG. To my Mistris, I burning in love.
I Burn, and cruell you, in vain
Hope to quench me with disdain;
If from your eyes, those sparkles came,
That have kindled all this flame,
What boots it me, though now you shrowd
Those fierce Comets in a cloud?
Since all the flames that I have felt,
Could your snow yet never melt,
Nor, can your snow (though you should take
Alps into your bosome) slake
The heat of my enamour'd heart;
But with wonder learn Loves art
No seas of yce can cool desire,
Equall flames must quench Loves fire;
Then think not that my heat can dye
Till you burn as wel as I.