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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

First Line: The time is come I must departe
Last Line: Of that I leave them tyl.
Subject(s): London; Wills

The time is come I must departe,
from thee ah famous Citie:
I never yet to rue my smart,
did finde that thou hadst pitie.
Wherefore small cause ther is, that I
should greeve from thee go:
But many Women foolyshly,
lyke me, and other moe.
Doe such a fyxed fancy set,
on those which least desarve,
That long it is ere wit we get,
away from them to swarve.
But tyme with pittie oft wyl tel
to those that wil her try:
Whether it best be more to mell,
or utterly defye.
And now hath time me put in mind,
of thy great cruelnes:
That never once a help wold finde,
to ease me in distres.
Thou never yet, woldst credit geve
to boord me for a yeare:
Nor with Apparell me releve
except thou payed weare.
No, no, thou never didst me good,
nor ever wilt I know:
Yet am I in no angry moode,
but wyll, or ere I goe
In perfect love and charytie.
my Testament here write:
And leave to thee such Treasurye,
as I in it recyte.
Now stand a side and geve me leave
to write my latest Wyll:
And see that none you do deceave,
of that I leave them tyl.

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