Shakespeareanlovepoem
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Methinks that thou art my cheerful wouldA gift not a plague I think thou artThrough a game of woo catch me their shouldHeavy no long casts its painful shadow
Come Hither and Hark as a tale of Will and WooThy’s hair as dark as E’en and eyes as blue as crystal’sThou art in my thoughts morrow after morrow
Perhance me will for thee is verily woo
For common Sirrah on the Presence of a Rose
