_Claud._ I look'd upon her with a soldier's eye, That liked, but had a rougher task in hand Than to drive liking to the name of love: But now I am returned, and that war thoughts Have left their places vacant; in their rooms Come thronging soft and delicate desires, All prompting me how fair young Hero is, Saying how I liked her ere I went to war. SHAKSPEARE. LONDON: SMITH, ELDER, AND CO., CORNHILL. 1848.…
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