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Слушать(AI)Though I Thy Mithridates Were
Though I thy Mithridates were,
Framed to defy the poison-dart,
Yet must thou fold me unaware To know the rapture of thy heart,
And I but render and confess The malice of thy tenderness.
For elegant and antique phrase,
Dearest, my lips wax all too wise;
Nor have I known a love whose praise Our piping poets solemnize,
Neither a love where may not be Ever so little falsity.
James Joyce
James Augustine Aloysius Joyce (2 February 1882 – 13 January 1941) was an Irish novelist, short story writer, poet, teacher, and literary critic
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