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Click on the verses to see them in context. Shakespeare's plays are available from the Gutenberg Projet.

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And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks:

 Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, And bad'st me bury love. Why, love, I say!--madam! sweetheart!--why, bride!-- 
That I to your assistance do make love;
 If that thy bent of love be honourable, With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold, Long story short.  With all my love I do commend me to you: My true-love passion: therefore pardon me; 
With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown

 I shall despair. There is no creature loves me; Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs; You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,