"A lover's soul lives in the body of his mistress."
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How happy the lover, How easy his chain, How pleasing his pain, How sweet to discover He sighs not in vain.
— John Dryden
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Why so pale and wan, fond lover, Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale?
— John Suckling
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