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Love's not
Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks 9
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Within his
bending sickle's compass come; 10
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Love alters not
with his brief hours and weeks, 11
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But bears it
out, even to the edge of doom. 12
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If this be
error and upon me proved, 13
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I never writ, nor no man
ever loved. 14 |