(1544 - 1595 / Italy)

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Hedge, that divides the lovely

Hedge, that divides the lovely
Garden, and myself from me,
Never in you so fair a rose I see
As she who is my lady,
Loving, sweet and holy:
Who as I stretch my hand to you
Presses it, so softly, too.

Submitted: Tuesday, April 20, 2010


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