Though now thy eyes are carried from the wounds Thy eyes did give, when first my eyes beheld them, Though now thy ears deny to hear the sounds Of my just plaints, and therefore hast expell'd them, Yet once before thy soul shall take her way Towards those fields, the fair Elysian rest, Thou wilt be greedy of an hour's stay, To tell the world, how thou hast me opprest. I know thou wilt, and though a while the shade Obscure the Sun, at last the cloud will fade.
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