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- XLIV
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- If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,
- Injurious distance should not stop my way;
- For then despite of space I would be brought,
- From limits far remote where thou dost stay.
- No matter then although my foot did stand
- Upon the farthest earth removed from thee;
- For nimble thought can jump both sea and land
- As soon as think the place where he would be.
- But ah! thought kills me that I am not thought,
- To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone,
- But that so much of earth and water wrought
- I must attend time’s leisure with my moan,
- Receiving nought by elements so slow
- But heavy tears, badges of either’s woe.
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