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O, My Lady, Have You Not Seen One

O, my lady, have you not seen One
Who laid his hand on my heart, when
I answered you so softly, tamely,
Because I feared his blows?
He was Love, that one who found us,
Come from far, but standing by me,
In a Syrian bowman’s likeness,
Solely set to conquer others.

Drawing sighs from out your eyes,

He fired them deep into my heart,
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