"No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face."
"Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell, And poppy, or charms, can make us sleep as well, And better than thy stroke. Why swell'st thou then?"
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Source: John Donne (1839). “The Works of John Donne: With a Memoir of His Life”, p.448
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