Reason, in itself confounded, Hearts remote, yet not asunder; Let the bird of loudest lay, Save the eagle, featherd king: That the self was not the same; That defunctive music can, Two distincts, division none: Save the eagle, featherd king: Twas not their infirmity,
Either was the others mine. Lest the requiem lack his right! But thou shrieking harbinger, Love and constancy is dead; To this urn let those repair But in them it were a wonder; With the breath thou givest and takest,
With the breath thou givest and takest, Let the priest in surplice white, That the self was not the same; That the turtle saw his right Whereupon it made this threne And thou treble-dated crow, Love and constancy is dead; Distance, and no space was seen From this session interdict
Had the essence but in one; It was married chastity; Be the death-divining swan, On the sole Arabian tree, Twixt the turtle and his queen: That it cried, How true a twain Augur of the fevers end, Grace in all simplicity,
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