I'm like some king in whose corrupted veins
Flows agèd blood; who rules a land of rains;
Who, young in years, is old in all distress;
Who flees good counsel to find weariness
Among his...
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Fair is the sun when first he flames above, |
There shall be couches whence faint odours rise, |
Not all the beauties in old prints vignetted, |
"To thy wife's eyes I'll bring their long-lost gleam, |
If thou wilt shut thy drowsy eyes, |
I thought myself, indeed, secure, |
I say, as one who never feared |
I count my treasures o'er with care,--- |
COBBLER |