Abstract

So when or you or I are made / A fable, song, or fleeting shade; / All love, all liking, all delight / Lies drown’d with us in endless night. / Then while time serves, and we are but decaying; / Come, my Corinna, come, let’s goe a Maying.

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Additional Information

ISSN
2325-730X
Print ISSN
1046-3348
Pages
pp. 151-152
Launched on MUSE
2017-03-30
Open Access
No
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