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| The Legacy. |
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| When last I dyed, and, Dear, I die |
| As often as from thee I goe, |
| Though it be but an hour agoe, |
| And lovers hours be full eternity, |
| I can remember yet, that I |
| Something did say, and something did bestow; |
| Though I be dead, which sent me, I might be |
| Mine own executor, and legacy. |
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| I heard me say, Tell her anon, |
| That my self, that is you, not I, |
| Did kill me, and when I felt me dy, |
| I bid me send my heart, when I was gone, |
| But I alas could there finde none, |
| When I had ripp'd, and search'd where hearts should ly |
| It kill'd me again, that I who still was true |
| In life, in my last Will should cozen you. |
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| Yet I found something like a heart, |
| For colours it and corners had, |
| It was not good, it was not bad, |
| It was intire to none, and few had part: |
| As good as could be made by art |
| It seem'd, and therefore for our loss be sad, |
| I meant to send that heart in stead of mine, |
| But oh, no man could hold it, for 'twas thine.
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[CW: A] |