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Poem by John Donne
Thee, eye of heaven, this great soule envies not; By thy male force is all wee have begot; In the first East thou now begins to shine; Suck'st early balme, and island spices there; And wilt anon, in thy loose-rein'd careere At Tagus, Po, Sene, Thames, and Danon dine, And see at night thy Westerne land of Myne : Yet hast thou not more nations seene than shee, That before thee one day beganne to bee, And, thy fraill light being quenched, shall long, long outlive thee.
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