  I will not say my true love’s eyes Outshine the noblest star; But in their depth of lustre lies My peace, my truce, my war. I will not say upon her neck Is white to shame the snow; For if her bosom hath a speck I would not have it go. My love is as a woman sweet, And as a woman white; Who’s more than this is more than meet For me and my delight. Norman R. Gale. |
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