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Poem by John Skelton
To Mistress Anne
Mistress Anne, I am your man, As you may well espy. If you will be Content with me, I am your man. But if you will Keep company still With every knave that comes by, Then you will be Forsaken of me, That am your man. But if you fain, I tell you plain, If I presently shall die, I will not such As loves too much, That am your man. For if you can Love every man That can flatter and lie, Then are ye No match for me, That am your man. For I will not take No such kind of make (May all full well it try!), But off will ye cast At any blast, That am your man.
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