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。s o n n e t I。

Veil not thine noble silhouette with stern-heartedness assumed,
As if in throes of middle age love too is defaced;
And longing after longings phantoms were hovering, silenced troops,
That clueless image of my flesh, too, stripped of youth.
Grievous eyes cannot firm themselves when see you flinch away,
Now they reject light, to rehearse that we burn in darkened love.
Since Nature forbids not loves from morality deviate
in my feverish conjecture; nor should ethics sweet desire procrastinate.
Yet you've turned a deaf ear to nymph's imploring tongue
Locked hidden in decorum and old age's imminent winter's sleet.
High in early womanhood, the very things I sulk and dull---
My own heart, and soul, till they are dead supine as corpse lies stunned.

But Eros the relentless little brat, refuses to have his bow let loose,
Clinging to me, only me, unless I at last am doomed !!

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