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Believe me, if all those endearing young charms, |
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Which I gaze on so fondly today, |
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Were to change by tomorrow and fleet in my arms, |
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Live fairy-gifts fading away |
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Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art, |
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Let thy loveliness fade as it will; |
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And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart |
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Would entwine itself verdantly still. |
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It is not while beauty and youth are thine own, |
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And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear, |
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That the fervor and faith of a soul can be known, |
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To which time will but make thee more dear. |
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No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets, |
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But as truly loves on to the close: |
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As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets |
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The same look which she turned when he rose. |