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| They that have power to hurt, and will do none, | 1 |
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| That do not do the thing they most do show, |
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| Who, moving others, are themselves as stone, |
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| Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow; |
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| They rightly do inherit heaven's graces, | 5 |
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| And husband nature's riches from expense; |
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| They are the lords and owners of their faces, |
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| Others, but stewards of their excellence. |
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| The summer's flower is to the summer sweet, |
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| Though to itself, it only live and die, | 10 |
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| But if that flower with base infection meet, |
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| The basest weed outbraves his dignity: |
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For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; |
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Lilies that fester, smell far worse than weeds. |
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