Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said
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Thy edge should blunter be than appetite,
Which but to-day by feeding is allayed,
To-morrow sharp'ned in his former might.
So, love, be thou: although to-day thou fill
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Thy hungry eyes even till they wink with fulness,
To-morrow see again, and do not kill
The spirit of love with a perpetual dulness.
Let this sad int'rim like the ocean be
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Which parts the shore where two contracted new
Come daily to the banks, that, when they see
Return of love, more blest may be the view;
Or call it winter, which, being full of care,
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Makes summer's welcome thrice more wished, more rare.