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Christina Hendricks, thy beauty is to me/Like those Nicèan barks of yore /That gently, o'er a perfumed sea,/The weary way-worn wanderer bore/To his own native shore.
Or, in translation,
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Dull sublunary lovers love,
Whose soul is sense, cannot admit
Absence, because it doth remove
That thing which elemented it.
(From "A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning" by John Donne)
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