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SONNET DCCLXI
Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness;
That am debarre'd the benefit of rest?
The dedicated words which writers use
They are but dressings of a former sight.
But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are,
And for that riches where is my deserving?
They are the lords and owners of their faces,
When thou thy self dost give invention light?
'Gainst death, and all-oblivious enmity
Strikes each in each by mutual ordering;
And puts apparel on my tatter'd loving,
And die as fast as they see others grow;
   But since he died and poets better prove,
   Think all but one, and me in that one 'Will.'

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