John Donne Poem

True Love

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Love bred of glances ‘twixt amorous eyes,
Like children’s fancies, soon bred, soon dies.
Guilt, bitterness and smiling woe
Doth oft deceive poor lovers so,
And the fond sense the unwary soul deceives
With deadly poison wrapt in lily leaves.
But hearts so chain’d, ’tis goodness stands
With truth unstain’d to couple hands.
Love being to all beauty blind,
Save the clear beauties of the mind,
Where reason is pleased, continual blisses shedding,
Angels are guests and dance at his blest wedding.

The Lie

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