"No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face."
"Yet nothing can to nothing fall, Nor any place be empty quite; Therefore I think my breast hath all Those pieces still, though they be not unite; And now, as broken glasses show A hundred lesser faces, so My rags of heart can like, wish, and adore, But after one such love, can love no more."
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Source: John Donne, Theodore Redpath (2009). “The Songs and Sonets of John Donne”, p.166, Harvard University Press
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