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Sonnet.

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for the 14th of february.

no popular respect will i omit

to do thee honor on this happy day,

when every loyal lover tasks his wit

his simple truth in studious rhymes to pay,

and to his mistress dear his hopes convey.

rather thou knowest i would still outrun

all calendars with love’s — whose date alway

thy bright eyes govern better than the sun —

for with thy favor was my life begun;

and still i reckon on from smiles to smiles,

and not by summers, for i thrive on none

but those thy cheerful countenance complies:

oh! if it be to choose and call thee mine,

love, thou art every day my valentine.

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