Chapter 41 No.41

Sonnet

Oh, Beauty, passing beauty! sweetest Sweet!

How canst thou let me waste my youth in sighs;

I only ask to sit beside thy feet.

Thou knowest I dare not look into thine eyes,

Might I but kiss thy hand! I dare not fold

My arms about thee-scarcely dare to speak.

And nothing seems to me so wild and bold,

As with one kiss to

            
            

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