Let him go love, and see wher it be game!
For I am brydled unto sobernesse
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For her, that is of women cheef princesse.
But ever, whan thought shulde my herte embrace,
Than unto me is beste remedye,
Whan I loke on your goodly fresshe face;
So mery a mirrour coude I never espye;
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And, if I coude, I wolde it magnifye.