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Humour, say what mak'st thou here
In the presence of a queen?

Princes hold conceit most dear,
All conceit in humour seen.

Thou art a heavy laden mood.

Humour is Invention's food.

But never humour yet was true,
But that which only pleaseth you.

O I am as heavy as earth,
Say then, who is Humour now?

I am now inclined to mirth,
Humour I as well as thou.

Why then 'tis I am drowned in woe.

No, no. Wit is cherished so.

But never humour yet was true,
But that which only pleaseth you.

Mirth then is drowned in sorrow's brim.
O in sorrow all things sleep.

No, no, fool, the light'st things swim.
Heavy things sink to the deep.

In her presence all things smile.

Humour frolic then awhile.

But never humour yet was true,
But that which only pleaseth you.

Text přidal zanzara

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