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Not at first sight, nor with a dribbed shot Love gave the wound, which while I breathe will bleed: But known worth did in mine of time proceed, Till by degrees it had full conquest got. I saw and liked, I liked but loved not, I loved, but straight did not what Love decreed: At length to Love's decrees I, forced, agreed, Yet with repining at so partial lot. Now even that footstep of lost liberty Is gone, and now like slave-born Muscovite, I call it praise to suffer tyranny, And now employ the remnant of my wit, To make myself believe that all is well, While with a feeling skill I paint my hell.
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