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The Feuer. |
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Oh doe not dye, for I shall hate [271] |
All woemen so, when thou art gon |
That thee I shall not celebrate |
When I remember thou wast one |
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But yet, thou canst not dye I knowe |
To leaue the world behind is death |
But when thou from this world wilt goe |
The whole world vapours with thy breath |
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Or if, when thou, the worlds soule, go'st |
It stay, tis but they Carcasse then |
The fayrest woman but thy Ghost |
But corrupt wormes the worthy'st men |
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O wrangling Schools that search what fire |
Shall burne this world, Had none the witt |
Vnto this knowledge to aspire |
That this her feuer might bee it? |
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And yet shee cannot wast by this |
Nor longe beare this tormenting wrong |
ffor more Corruption needfull is |
To fewell such a feuer long |
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These burning fits but Meteors bee |
Whose matter in thee soone is spent |
Thy beauty, and all parts wch are in thee |
Are vnchangeable firmament |
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Yet, t'was of my mind Seizing thee |
Though it in thee cannot perseuer |
ffor I had rather owner bee |
of thee one hower then all else ever
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[CW: Marke] |