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The Golden Treasury

Book 1 — LIV ADVICE TO A LOVER

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The sea hath many thousand sands, The sun hath motes as many; The sky is full of stars, and Love As full of woes as any: Believe me, that do know the elf, And make no trial by thyself! It is in truth a pretty toy For babes to play withal:— But O! the honeys of our youth Are oft our age's gall! Self-proof in time will make thee know He was a prophet told thee so; A prophet that, Cassandra-like, Tells truth without belief; For headstrong Youth will run his race, Although his goal be grief:— Love's Martyr, when his heat is past, Proves Care's Confessor at the last.

Anon.

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