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"doat" poems
XXXII The first time that the sun rose on thine oath To love me, I looked forward to the moon To slacken all those bonds which seemed too soon And quickly tied to make a lasting troth. Quick-loving hearts, I thought, may quickly loathe; And, looking on myself, I seemed not one For such man’s love!—more like an out-of-tune Worn viol, a good singer would be wroth To spoil his song with, and which, snatched in haste, Is laid down at the first ill-sounding note. I did not wrong myself so, but I placed A wrong on thee. For perfect strains may float ’Neath master-hands, from instruments defaced,— And great souls, at one stroke, may do and doat.
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Sonnet 32 - The First Time That The Sun Rose On Thine Oath
Anonymous LOVE not me for comely grace, For my pleasing eye or face, Nor for any outward part, No, nor for my constant heart,—   For those may fail, or turn to ill,             So thou and I shall sever: Keep therefore a true woman's eye, And love me still, but know not why—   So hast thou the same reason still     To doat upon me ever!
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Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 6:08 AM UTC
XCVII. "Love not me for comely grace"
"O where are you going with your love-locks flowing, On the west wind blowing along this valley track?" "The downhill path is easy, come with me an it please ye, We shall escape the uphill by never turning back." So they two went together in glowing August weather, The honey-breathing heather lay to their left and right; And dear she was to doat on, her swift feet seemed to float on The air like soft twin pigeons too sportive to alight. "Oh, what is that in heaven where grey cloud-flakes are seven, Where blackest clouds hang riven just at the rainy skirt?" "Oh, that's a meteor sent us, a message dumb, portentous, An undeciphered solemn signal of help or hurt." "Oh, what is that glides quickly where velvet flowers grow thickly, Their scent comes rich and sickly?"--"A scaled and hooded worm." "Oh, what's that in the hollow, so pale I quake to follow?" "Oh, that's a thin dead body which waits the eternal term." "Turn again, O my sweetest,--turn again, false and fleetest: This beaten way thou beatest I fear is hell's own track." "Nay, too steep for hill mounting; nay, too late for cost counting: This downhill path is easy, but there's no turning back."
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Amor Mundi