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A Ninth Birthday

Rating: 2.5

Three times thrice hath winter's rough white wing
Crossed and curdled wells and streams with ice
Since his birth whose praises love would sing
Three times thrice.

Earth nor sea bears flower nor pearl of price
Fit to crown the forehead of my king,
Honey meet to please him, balm, nor spice.

Love can think of nought but love to bring

Fit to serve or do him sacrifice
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7/21/2021 6:31:32 AM # 1.0.0.663