To Marguerite

 So great my debt to thee, I know my life
 Is all too short to pay the least I owe,
And though I live it all in that sweet strife,
 Still shall I be insolvent when I go.

Bid, then, thy Bailiff Cupid come to me
 And bind and lead me wheresoe’er thou art,
And let me live in sweet captivity
 Within the debtor’s prison of thy heart.

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