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- XCV
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- How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame
- Which, like a canker in the fragrant rose,
- Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name!
- O, in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose!
- That tongue that tells the story of thy days,
- Making lascivious comments on thy sport,
- Cannot dispraise but in a kind of praise;
- Naming thy name blesses an ill report.
- O, what a mansion have those vices got
- Which for their habitation chose out thee,
- Where beauty’s veil doth cover every blot,
- And all things turn to fair that eyes can see!
- Take heed, dear heart, of this large privilege;
- The hardest knife ill-used doth lose his edge.
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