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Some glory in their birth, some in their skill, Some in their wealth, some in their body's force, Some in their garments though new-fangled ill, Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse, And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure, Wherein it finds a joy above the rest, But these particulars are not my measure: All these I better in one general best. Thy love is better than high birth to me, Richer than wealth, prouder than garments' costs, Of more delight than hawks and horses be: And having thee, of all men's pride I boast— Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst take All this away, and me most wretched make. |