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Sir John Davies

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As when the brighte Cerulian firmament

As when the brighte Cerulian firmament
Hathe not his glory with black cloudes defasíte,
Soe were my thoughts voyde of all discontent
And with noe wyste of passions overcast;
They all were pure and cleare, till at the last
An ydle, carles thoughte forthe wandring wente,
And of that potsonous beauty tooke a taste
Which doe the harts of lovers so torment.
Then as it chauncethe in a flock of sheepe
When some contagious yll breeds first in one,
Daylie it spreeds, and secretly doth creepe
Till all the silly troupe be overgone;
So by close neighbourhood within my brest,
One scurvy thoughte infecteth all the rest.

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© 2002 Elena and Yakov Feldman