"So many have, that never touched his hand, Sweetly supposed them mistress of his heart. My woeful self, that did in freedom stand And was my own fee simple, not in part, What with his art in youth and youth in art, Threw my affections in his charmèd power, Reserved the stalk and gave him all my flower."
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Sweetly supposed them mistress of his heart.
My woeful self, that did in freedom stand
And was my own fee simple, not in part,
What with his art in youth and youth in art,
Threw my affections in his charmèd power,
Reserved the stalk and gave him all my flower."
:D Happy Birthday to the Bard! :D
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