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On Her Dancing I stood and saw my Mistress dance, Silent, and with so fixed an eye, Some might suppose me in a trance: But being asked why, By one I who knew I was in love, I could not but impart My wonder, to behold her move So nimbly with a marble heart. James Shirley's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1332 |
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