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The Damp |
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When I am dead, and doctors knowe not why [286] |
And my frinds curiosity |
Will haue mee cutt vp to suruey each part |
When they shall find your picture in my heart |
You thinke a suddayne Damp of loue |
Will through all theyr sences moue |
And worke on them, as mee, and so preferre |
Yor Murder to the name of Massacre |
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Poore Victoryes, but if you dare bee braue |
And pleasure in your conquest haue |
ffirst kill th' enormous Gyant, yor disdayne |
And let th' Enchantresse Honor next bee slayne |
And like a Gothe and Vandall rise |
Deface Records and Historyes |
Of yor owne Arts and triumphs ouer men |
And, without such advantage, kill mee then. |
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ffor I could muster vp as well as you |
My Gyants and my witches too |
Wch are vast Constancy and Secretnesse |
But these I neyther looke for nor professe. |
Kill mee as woman; let mee dye |
As a meere man; Doe you but trye |
Yor passiue Valour, and you shall find than |
Naked y'haue odds enough of any man.
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[CW: Shee's dead__] |