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1564–1616

122

William Shakespeare

Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain Full character'd with lasting memory, Which shall above that idle rank remain, Beyond all date; even to eternity:

Or, at the least, so long as brain and heart Have faculty by nature to subsist; Till each to raz'd oblivion yield his part Of thee, thy record never can be miss'd.

That poor retention could not so much hold, Nor need I tallies thy dear love to score; Therefore to give them from me was I bold, To trust those tables that receive thee more:

To keep an adjunct to remember thee Were to import forgetfulness in me.

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122 · William Shakespeare · Poetry Cove