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Written by Thomas Stanley
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| Not that by this disdain | | | I am releas'd, | | | And freed from thy tyrannick chain, | | | Do I my self think blest; | | | | | Nor that thy Flame shall burn | 5 | | No more; for know | | | That I shall into ashes turn, | | | Before this fire doth so. | | | | | Nor yet that unconfin'd | | | I now may rove, | 10 | | And with new beauties please my mind; | | | But that thou ne'r didst love: | | | | | For since thou hast no part | | | Felt of this flame, | | | I onely from thy tyrant heart | 15 | | Repuls'd, not banish'd am. | | | | | To loose what once was mine | | | Would grieve me more | | | Then those inconstant sweets of thine | | | Had pleas'd my soul before. | 20 | | | | Now I have not lost the blisse | | | I ne'r possest; | | | And spight of fate am blest in this, | | | That I was never blest. |
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