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 know'st I love her,
And for my
sake even so doth she abuse me,
Suff'ring
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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