Sonnet 59. Of the Duleweid. I The burning sparkis of Helens angells ee, But missing any, woundit eviry wicht That come within the boushot of her sicht ; Bot Love, vhose harte compassion had to see Sa many lovers, but redemption, dee, Vha war attrapit with so sueet a slicht, In murning blak he cled this beutie bricht, As funerall mark and handsenjie to be. But all in vane, alace ! I must confes ; For why? a thousand lovers not the les, Thoght they persaivd that Burrio Death to bost Within [hir] eyis, and sau him vhar he sat, Jit feirles ran they, not withstanding that, To se these eyis ; and syn gaiv vp the ghost. |
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