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Sweet Beauty beare this bitterest abuse:
If thou abuse thy selfe, why should not he?
Of whom thou hast, in this Tract, made good vse
(In gaudiest Colours) by out-painting Thee:
Thou canst not hurt me more then by thy Looks,
Then thy good Looks I need not much to waigh:
My sight thy Back, then Forepart better brooks:
Then, when thou seest me turne some other way:
Vnto mine Eyes, thou art a Cockatrice,
Who dost infuse, through them, into my Hart,
The vertue of thy powr, which doth (like Vice )
Wholy confound my single-double Part:
 Then, if thou wilt damnme for myne offence,
 Looke well on me, to plague my Soule, and Sence.
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