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That frown,
Aminta, now hath drown'd
Thy bright front's pow'r,
and crown'd
Me that was bound.
No, no, deceived
cruel, no!
Love's fiery darts,
Till tipt with
kisses, never kindle hearts.
Adieu, weak
beauteous tyrant, see!
Thy angry flames meant me,
Retort on thee:
For know, it is decreed, proud
fair,
I ne'r must dye
By any scorching, but a
melting, eye.
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