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My Love in her attire doth show her wit,
...It doth so well become her;
For every season she hath dressings fit,
...For Winter, Spring, and Summer.
......No beauty she doth miss
.........When all her robes are on:
......But Beauty's self she is
.........When all her robes are gone. .....Madrigal by Anonymous
More Archived Love Poems: 1 2 3 4 5
Sunday, 08-Nov-2009 01:13:34 GMT | 
