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Anon. [1599], The passionate pilgrime. By W. Shakespeare (Printed for W. Iaggard, and are to be sold by W. Leake [etc.], London) [word count] [S20122].
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[Poem X]
Sweet Rose, faire flower, vntimely pluckt, soon faded,
Pluckt in the bud, and vaded in the spring.
Bright orient pearle, alacke too timely shaded,
Faire creature kilde too soon by Deaths sharpe sting:
  Like a greene plumbe that hangs vpon a tree:
  And fals (through winde) before the fall should be.

I weepe for thee, and yet no cause I haue,
For why: thou lefts me nothing in thy will.
And yet thou lefts me more then I did craue,
For why; I craued nothing of thee still:
  O yes (deare friend I pardon craue of thee,
  Thy discontent thou didst bequeath to me.

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Anon. [1599], The passionate pilgrime. By W. Shakespeare (Printed for W. Iaggard, and are to be sold by W. Leake [etc.], London) [word count] [S20122].
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