| I
| I thought once how Theocritus had sung
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| II
| But only three in all God’s universe
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| III
| Unlike are we, unlike, O princely Heart!
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| IV
| Thou hast thy calling to some palace-floor
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| V
| I lift my heavy heart up solemnly
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| VI
| Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand
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| VII
| The face of all the world is changed, I think
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| VIII
| What can I give thee back, O liberal
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| IX
| Can it be right to give what I can give?
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| X
| Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed
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| XI
| And therefore if to love can be desert
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| XII
| Indeed this very love which is my boast
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| XIII
| And wilt thou have me fashion into speech
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| XIV
| If thou must love me, let it be for nought
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| XV
| Accuse me not, beseech thee, that I wear
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| XVI
| And yet, because thou overcomest so
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| XVII
| My poet thou canst touch on all the notes
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| XVIII
| I never gave a lock of hair away
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| XIX
| The soul’s Rialto hath its merchandize
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| XX
| Beloved, my beloved, when I think
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| XXI
| Say over again, and yet once over again
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| XXII
| When our two souls stand up erect and strong
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| XXIII
| Is it indeed so? If I lay here dead
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| XXIV
| Let the world’s sharpness like a clasping knife
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| XXV
| A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne
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| XXVI
| I lived with visions for my company
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| XXVII
| My own Beloved, who hast lifted me
|
| XXVIII
| My letters! all dead paper, mute and white!
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| XXIX
| I think of thee!—my thoughts do twine and bud
|
| XXX
| I see thine image through my tears to-night
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| XXXI
| Thou comest! all is said without a word
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| XXXII
| The first time that the sun rose on thine oath
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| XXXIII
| Yes, call me by my pet-name! let me hear
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| XXXIV
| With the same heart, I said, I’ll answer thee
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| XXXV
| If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange
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| XXXVI
| When we met first and loved, I did not build
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| XXXVII
| Pardon, oh, pardon, that my soul should make
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| XXXVIII
| First time he kissed me, he but only kissed
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| XXXIX
| Because thou hast the power and own’st the grace
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| XL
| Oh, yes! they love through all this world of ours!
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| XLI
| I thank all who have loved me in their hearts
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| XLII
| My future will not copy fair my past
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| XLIII
| How do I love thee? Let me count the ways
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| XLIV
| Beloved, thou hast brought me many flowers
|