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Life
I made a posle, while the day ran by:
Here will I smell my remnant out, and tie
My life withinbthls band. ,
But time dld edcen to the flowers, and they
By noon most cunningly did steal away
And wlther‘d in my hand.
My hand was next to them, and then my heart;
I took, without more thinking, in good part .
Times gentle admonltion:
Who did so sweetly deaths sad taste convey
Making my minde to smell my fatall day;
Yet sugring the suspicion. _
Farewell deare flowers, sweetly your time ye spent,
Fit, while ye liv'd, for smell or ornament, .
And alter death for cures,
I follow straight without complaints or grief,
Since If my sent be good, It care not, if _
It be as short as yours.
George Herbert
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