William Strode Poems

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Here is paper, pen, and inke,
That your heart and seale may sinke
Into such markes as may expresse
A Soule much blest in heavinesse.


May your paper seeme as fayre
As yourselfe when you appeare:
May the Letters which you write
Looke like black eye-lids on white.


May your penne such fancies bring
As one new puld from Cupid's wing:
That your paper, hand, and seale
His favour, heart, and Soule may steale.

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