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by the Industry of our _FATHERS_; but the Language that w

Sent on 08/26/09 04:16 AM

Gue doth tune the Spheres, And gets new Muses in her Hearers Ears. Stars fall to fetch fresh Light from her rich Eyes, Her bright Brow drives the Sun to Clouds beneath. Again, O Glass! with too much Joy my Thoughts thou greets. And again upon the Chamb...