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All English Sonnets


Spurred by beauty when I pluck the flowers,
They quickly lose their fragrance and their bloom,
And afterwards for countless weary hours,
I sink to deepest depths of darkest gloom.

And likewise when I meet you, I am pleased,
And juices of my body over-flow,
But by the gravest torments I am seized.
When you, against my wishes leave and go.

Mysteriously all beauty blooming lives,
Till it is by the loving fingers touched,
It pleases but no satisfaction gives,
Till it is by the panting passion crushed.

Then satiated humans in surprise-
Bewail its fleeting glory, quick demise.

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