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Sonnets to Phillis. 27 Fair eyes, whilst fearful I your fair admire, By unexpressèd sweetness that I gain, My memory of sorrow doth expire, And falcon-like, I tower joy's heavens amain. But when your suns in oceans of their glory Shut up their day-bright shine, I die for thought; So pass my joys as doth a new-played story, And one poor sigh breathes all delight to naught. So to myself I live not, but for you; For you I live, and you I love, but none else, Oh then, fair eyes, whose light I live to view, Or poor forlorn despised to live alone else, Look sweet, since from the pith of contemplation Love gathereth life, and living, breedeth passion. Thomas Lodge's other poems:
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