Sonnet CXXXVI
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If thy soul cheque thee that I come so near, | 1
Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy 'Will,' | 2
And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there; | 3
Thus far for love my love-suit, sweet, fulfil. | 4
'Will' will fulfil the treasure of thy love, | 5
Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one. | 6
In things of great receipt with ease we prove | 7
Among a number one is reckon'd none: | 8
Then in the number let me pass untold, | 9
Though in thy stores' account I one must be; | 10
For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold | 11
That nothing me, a something sweet to thee: | 12
Make but my name thy love, and love that still, | 13
And then thou lovest me, for my name is 'Will.' | 14
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