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VVynken.
As thou art novv, vvas I a gamesome boy,
Though staru'd vvith vvintred eld as thou do'st see,
And vvell I knovv thy svvallovv-vvinged ioy,
Shalbe forgotten as it is in me.
When on the Arche of thine eclipsed eies,
Time hath ingrau'd deepe characters of death,
And sun-burnt age thy kindlie moisture dries,
Thy vvearied lungs be niggards of thy breath,
Thy bravvne-falne armes, thy camock-bended backe,
The time-plovv d furrovves in thy fairest field,
The Southsaiers of natures vvofull vvrack,
When blooming age must stoupe to starued eld,
When Lillie vvhite is of a tavvnie die,
Thy fragrant crimson turn'd ash-coloured pale,
Thy skin orecast vvith rough embroderie,
And cares rude pencell, quite disgrac'd thy sale,
When dovvne-beds heat must thavve thy frozen cold,
And luke-vvarme brothes recure Phlebotomie,
And vvhen the bell is readie to be tol'd,
To call the vvormes to thine Anatomie:
Remember then my boy, vvhat once I said to thee.