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Sonnet Number One

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A softer heart on Earth there could not be,

As jasmine summer breezes, spiced of grace,

So delicate and winsome, granting me

Much velvet-brushed caressing to my face.

And sweetest cloying whispers came adrift

On delicate and near-transparent wings;

A soul presented, life's most precious gift;

How great it is to know such tender things!

How great - and yet, conversely, if one might;

How sad to find such softness in a heart;

For, though I gave my best to touch it light,

This cherished sacred object split apart.

Yet, even with the perfumed air now gone,

The warmth of it, eternal, will stay on.

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