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Sonnett
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Some will commend and prayse their mistres crisped hayre
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To shunne the fury off the hoote Sunnebeame
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Iff this be love, to fyxe the Eyes onn grownde
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From your fayre eyes the kendlynge sparks were sent
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Sonnet
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Lyke as the Princely faulcon on the fyste feedynge
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Sence course of kinde ordaynes itt to be so
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Sonnett
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Decayde I fynde my favor and my fate
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