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The Constant Lover

 Out upon it, I have lov'd
Three whole days together;
And am like to love three more,
If it prove fair weather.
Time shall molt away his wings Ere he shall discover In such whole wide world again Such a constant lover.
But the spite on't is, no praise Is due at all to me: Love with me had made no stays Had it any been but she.
Had it any been but she And that very face, There had been at least ere this A dozen dozen in her place.

by Sir John Suckling
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