To my dead friend Ben Johnson (Henry King Poems)
I see that wreath which doth the wearer arm'Gainst the quick strokes of thunder, is no charmTo keep off deaths ...
I see that wreath which doth the wearer arm'Gainst the quick strokes of thunder, is no charmTo keep off deaths ...
Fair one, you did on me bestowComparisons too sweet to ow;And but I found them sent from youI durst not ...
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