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Poem by Alexander Montgomerie Sonnet 60. Of the Duleweid. II Had I a foe that hated me to dead, For my reuenge, I wish him no more ill Bot to behold hir eyis, vhilk euer still Ar feirce against me with so sueet a feid. Hir looks belyve such honour suld him b[reid,] His wish wold be, his cative corps to kill. Euen Plesurs self could not content his wi[ll ;] Except the, Death, no thing culd him rem[eid.] The vgly looks of old Medusas eyi[s,] Compaird to hirs, ar not bot poets leyis ; For hirs exceids thame in a sharper sort : The Gorgon bot transformit men in sta[nis,] Bot she inflammis and freijis both at anis. To spuljie hairt, that minion makes hir sp[ort.] Alexander Montgomerie Alexander Montgomerie's other poems:
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