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XCVII “How like a winter hath my absence been From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year What freezing have I felt, what dark days seen With old December's bareness everywhere. And yet this time remov'd was summer's time The teeming Autumn big with rich increase, Bearing the wanton burthen of the prime, Like widowed wombs after their Lord's decease. Yet this abundant issue seem’d to me, But hope of Orphans, and unfathered fruit, For Summer and his pleasures wait on thee, And thou away, the very birds are mute. Or, if they sing, ‘tis with so dull a …
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XCVII “How like a winter hath my absence been From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year What freezing have I felt, what dark days seen With old December's bareness ever…
ulteriori informazioni
XCVII “How like a winter hath my absence been From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year What freezing have I felt, what dark days seen With old December's bareness everywhere. And yet this time remov'd was sum…
ulteriori informazioni
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