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Poem by Richard Lovelace Upon the Curtain of Lucasta's Picture, It was Thus Wrought Oh, stay that covetous hand; first turn all eye, All depth and minde; then mystically spye Her soul's faire picture, her faire soul's, in all So truely copied from th' originall, That you will sweare her body by this law Is but its shadow, as this, its;--now draw. Richard Lovelace Richard Lovelace's other poems:
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