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Robert Herrick - How His Soul Came Ensnared
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My soul would one day go and seek
For roses, and in Julia`s cheek
A richess of those sweets she found,
As in another Rosamond;
But gathering roses as she was,
Not knowing what would come to pass,
it chanced a ringlet of her hair
Caught my poor soul, as in a snare;
Which ever since has been in thrall;
—Yet freedom she enjoys withal.
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