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Poem by Philip Sidney
Sonnet 72. Desire, Though Thou My Old Companion Art
Desire, though thou my old companion art, And oft so clings to my pure love, that I One from the other scarcely can descry, While each doth blow the fire of my heart; Now from thy felloswhip I needs must part, Venus is taught with Dian's wings to fly: I must no more in thy sweet passions lie; Virtue's gold now must head my Cupid's dart. Service and honor, wonder with delight, Fear to offend, will worthy to appear, Care shining in mine eyes, faith in my sprite: These things are left me by my only dear; But thou, Desire, because thou wouldst have all, Now banish'd art. But yet alas how shall?
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