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| If the dull substance of my flesh were thought, Injurious distance should not stop my way; For then despite of faith I would be brought, From limits far remote where thou dost stay. No matter then although my foot did stand, Upon farthest earth removed from thee; For nimble thought can jump both see and land As soon as think the place where he would be. But ah! Thought kills me that I am not thought, To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone, But that so much of earth and water wrought I must attend time's leisure with my moan, Receiving naught by elements so slow But heavy tears, badges of either's woe. |