Wrapped in a soft couch of forgiveness
The apple of Earth shines on sky blue water
Illuminating butterfly wings of hope
In a timeless hug beneath trees of gold...
Hence vain deluding joyes,
The brood of folly without father bred,
How little you bested,
Or fill the fixèd mind with all your toyes;
Dwell in som idle brain,
And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess,
As thick and numberless
As the gay motes that people the Sun Beams,
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