Sonnet number only

When to thine brackish eyes I perchance to look
calling to mind the springtime of your youth
leaning to your lips, a kiss was all I took
lovestruck was I when stricken by a tooth

I only meant to have some fun
a touch while in the crypt
your love suprised me even then
when into my flesh you ripped

some say twas wrong to take a bride
whose mind had gone to waste
to them I say I have my pride
but I had to have a taste

they that hath still running blood flee in mighty streams
toghether my dead love and I hunt them as a team

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