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That same manne, that renneth awaye,Maye again fight, an other daye.
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For Myrth prolongeth lyfe, and causeth health.
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I am sorie God made me so comely.
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Gay love, God save it, so soone hotte, so soone colde.
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There is nothing wherein their womanliness is more honestly garnished than with silence.
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Wowers never speede well, that have a false harte.
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There hath grown no grass on my heels since I went hence.