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Sonnet 147

           ,        ,      ,       ,        ,
      My love | is as | a fe|ver long|ing still,
            ,           ,       ,    ,            ,
      For that | which lon|ger nur|seth the | disease.
        ,            ,            ,         ,          ,
      Feeding | on that | which doth | preserve | the ill,
         2   ,         ,      ,     ,          ,
      The uncer|tain sick|ly ap|petite | to please:
          ,       ,        ,       ,        ,
      My rea|son the | physi|cian to | my love,
       ,            ,         ,          ,          ,
      Angry | that his | prescrip|tions are | not kept
             ,         ,       ,     2    ,        ,
      Hath left | me, and | I des|perate now | approve.
          ,         ,            ,       ,        ,
      Desire | is death,| which phy|sic did | except.
        T    T   Tx         ,             ,    ,
      Past cure I^am,| now Rea|son is / past care,
            ,       ,          ,     ,        ,
      And fran|tic mad | with ev|ermore | unrest,
             ,           ,         ,         ,         ,
      My thoughts | and my | discourse | as mad|men's^are,
          ,        ,          ,       ,            ,
      At ran|dom from | the truth | vainly | expressed.
          ,          ,            ,           ,              ,
      For I | have sworn | thee fair,| and thought | thee bright,
           ,         ,          ,         ,         ,
      Who art | as black | as hell,| as dark | as night.

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