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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
Saturday, 21-Nov-2009 02:18:36 GMT |