If heaven would make me such another world. Love has no thought of self! The solid, solid universe is pervious to Love. This is the very ecstasy of love, whose violent property forebodes itself.
By heaven, I do love: and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to be melancholy. Ask what is happiness of heaven. A spark of that immortal fire. Could I love less, I should be happier now.
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