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Robert Herrick
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as
in silks my Julia goes, Then, then, methinks, how sweetly flows The liquefaction of her clothes. Next,
when I cast mine eyes, and see |
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Love is, above all, the gift of oneself. - Jean Anouilh, When I am sad and
weary. When I think all hope has gone. Those have most power to hurt us that we love. - Francis Beaumont,
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