Sonnets from the Portuguese, XIII
And wilt thou have me fashion into speech
The love I bear thee, finding words enough,
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Annie Laurie
Maxwelton's hills are bonnie
Where early falls the dew
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Song
When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
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Maybe
Maybe he believes me, maybe not.
Maybe I can marry him, maybe not.
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Jenny Kissed Me
Jenny kissed me when we met,
Jumping from the chair she sat in;
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The Passionate Shepherd to His Love
Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
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Shall I Compare Thee, (Sonnet XVIII)
Shall I compare thee to a Summer's day?
Thou are more lovely and more temperate:
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A Dream within a Dream
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
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When the Lamp Is Shattered
When the lamp is shattered
The light in the dust lies dead
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For some we loved
For some we loved, the loveliest and the best
That from His vintage rolling Time hath pressed,
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