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Sion's Sonnets

Bridegroom.

Now rests my love : till nuw her tender brest,
Wanting her joy, could finde no peace, no rest;
I charge you all, by the true love you beare
To friendship, or what else you count most deare,
Disturbe her not, but let her sleep her fill:
I charge you all upon your lives be still.
O may that labouring soule that lives opprest
For me, in me receive eternall rest.

What curious face is this ? what mortall birth
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