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Edmund Spenser - Sonnet XXVIIIEdmund Spenser - Sonnet XXVIII
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THe laurell leafe, which you this day doe weare, guies me great hope of your relenting mynd: for since it is the badg which I doe beare, ye bearing it doe seeme to me inclind: The powre thereof, which ofte in me I find, let it lykewise your gentle brest inspire with sweet infusion, and put you in mind of that proud mayd, whom now those leaues attyre Proud Daphne scorning Phaebus louely fyre, on the Thessalian shore from him did flie: for which the gods in theyr reuengefull yre did her transforme into a laurell tree. Then fly no more fayre loue from Phebus chace, but in your brest his leafe and loue embrace.
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