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Monday, February 13, 2006
VALENTINE'S POEM Richard Cheynlace Going to the Birddes Tell me not (Lynne) I am unkinde, That to the Gunnerie Of chaste birds and quiet pines On private Texan fields, I flie. True, an ancient Lawyere now I chase, The first Foe drawing nigh; And with a violent Burst emplace Rough pellets in his Eye. Yet this misfireance is such As you too shall adore: I could not love you (Deare) so much Loved I not Birdshott more. |