I stood where Love in brimming armfuls boreSlight wanton flowers and foolish toys of fruit:And round him ladies thronged in warm pursuit,Fingered and lipped and proffered the strange store.And from one hand the petal and the coreSavoured of sleep; and cluster and curled shootSeemed from another hand like shame's salute,Gifts that I felt my cheek was blushing for.At last Love bade my Lady give the
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