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Sonnet XLII
poetry [ ]
That thou hast her, it is not all my grief,

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by [William_Shakespeare ]

2005-03-23  | [This text should be read in romana]    |  Submited by Antal Adrian



That thou hast her, it is not all my grief,
And yet it may be said I loved her dearly;
That she hath thee, is of my wailing chief,
A loss in love that touches me more nearly.
Loving offenders, thus I will excuse ye:
Thou dost love her, because thou knowst I love her;
And for my sake even so doth she abuse me,
Suffering my friend for my sake to approve her.
If I lose thee, my loss is my love's gain,
And losing her, my friend hath found that loss;
Both find each other, and I lose both twain,
And both for my sake lay on me this cross:

But here's the joy; my friend and I are one;
Sweet flattery! then she loves but me alone.

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