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Written by Henry Farrell

Heartsore famed! Still! I seek her love; But coy her heart! It won't let be: For long! I seek her pleasures might! Entreat my love! But failed her eyes to see. O' cam'st thee! And thee my love - - - To note! Obvious in its breasted home... my heaving heart; its merriment, her devoted behove... Since supper me, her arresting tread of vision In beautiful form - A Godly - send! To view; In fact! Never was such fine eyes inform - - - And as a color-maid of delight, The wanton most know'st! defeats my pitiful fight: Ah! Truth be! My love for her, has neither stop nor start - - - Thusly! This is a poet's song...embalmed of woe, But honest with desire! To share your heart © 10/2021

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