amina kamran - To Dianeme

Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes
Which, star like sparkle in their skies;
Nor be you proud, thata you can see
All hearts your captives, yours yet free;
Be you not proud of thata rich hair
Which Wantons with the love sick air;
Whenas that ruby which you wear,
Sunk from the tip of your soft ear,
Will last to be a precious stone
When all your world of beauty's gone

amina kamran

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