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A Sonnet of Sonnets
Come back to me, who wait and watch for you: Or come not yet, for it is ver then. And long it is before you come again, so far between my pleasures are and few. While, when you come not, what I do I do thinking, 'Now when he comes,' my sweetest 'when:' For one man is my world of all the men this wide world holds; O love, my world is you. Howbeit, to meet you grows almost a pang because the pang of parting comes so soon' my hope hangs waning, waxing, like a moon between the heavenly days on which we meet: ah me, but where are now the songs I sang when life was sweet because you called them sweet? Christina Rossetti