Sonnet XLII
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That thou hast her, it is not all my grief, | 1
And yet it may be said I loved her dearly; | 2
That she hath thee, is of my wailing chief, | 3
A loss in love that touches me more nearly. | 4
Loving offenders, thus I will excuse ye: | 5
Thou dost love her, because thou knowst I love her; | 6
And for my sake even so doth she abuse me, | 7
Suffering my friend for my sake to approve her. | 8
If I lose thee, my loss is my love's gain, | 9
And losing her, my friend hath found that loss; | 10
Both find each other, and I lose both twain, | 11
And both for my sake lay on me this cross: | 12
But here's the joy; my friend and I are one; | 13
Sweet flattery! then she loves but me alone. | 14
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