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| Let those who are in favour with their stars | 1 |
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| Of public honour and proud titles boast, |
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| Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars |
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| Unlook'd for joy in that I honour most. |
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| Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread | 5 |
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| But as the marigold at the sun's eye, |
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| And in themselves their pride lies buried, |
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| For at a frown they in their glory die. |
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| The painful warrior famoused for fight, |
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| After a thousand victories once foil'd, | 10 |
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| Is from the book of honour razed quite, |
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| And all the rest forgot for which he toil'd: |
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| Then happy I, that love and am belov'd, |
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| Where I may not remove nor be remov'd. |
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