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首页The Defence of PoetryPOEM: DIRGE

POEM: DIRGE

        Ring out your bells, let m sed it ed, And faiteful fancy; From suc use men thus, Good Lord, deliver us.

        eep, neig    said t Love is dead:    is sor, blame. From so ungrateful fancy; From suc use men thus, Good Lord, deliver us.

        Let dirge be sung, and trentals rigomb ordairess marble ; apai;." From so ungrateful fancy; From suc use men thus, Good Lord, deliver us.

        Alas! I lie:    rage    dead, Love is not dead, but sleepetcill due deserts so call suc a frenzy: emper thus, Good Lord, deliver us.
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