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I begin to wane in sight; Shortly I shall bid good-night: Then no gazing more about, When the tapers once are out.

Stand with thy graces forth, brave man, and rise High with thine own auspicious destinies: Nor leave the search, and proof, till thou canst find These, or those ends, to which thou wast design'd. Thy lucky genius and thy guiding star Have made thee prosperous in thy ways thus far: Nor will they leave thee till they both have shown Thee to the world a prime and public one. Then, when thou see'st thine age all turn'd to gold, Remember what thy Herrick thee foretold, When at the holy threshold of thine house He boded good luck to thy self and spouse. Lastly, be mindful, when thou art grown great, That towers high rear'd dread most the lightning's threat: Whenas the humble cottages not fear The cleaving bolt of Jove the thunderer.

Dew sat on Julia's hair And spangled too, Like leaves that laden are With trembling dew: