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Love Sonnet 177 Count It My Pleasure To Behold Your Eyes

Count it my pleasure to behold your eyes,
As my future therein, I used to see,
None as marvelous did nature devise,
That was endeared by half as much, to me;
The special twinkle that there so I find,
In manner of speech so purely its own,
Speaks to my heart, as though bent to remind,
That our love, it wears since then as a crown;
No measure applies how feelings are gauged,
Nor waiting constrained in a sense of time,
Whilst I race the clock, I felt so enraged,
At eternity spent with every chime;
........My pleasure now waits for wishes given,
........As always, a Hell of wait for Heaven.

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