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Towrd to the ky, with cliff on cliff ypild, Fronting the unne, a rock fantatick roe; From every rift the pink and primroe mild, And redd with blooms hung the wildings boughs; On middle cliff each flowry hrub that blows On Mayes weete morne a fragrant grove diplayd, Beauteous and wilde as ever Druid choe; From whence a reverend Wizard through the hade Advaunt to meet my teps; for here me eemd I trayd.

White as the now-drop round his temples flowd A few thin hairs; bright in his eagle eye, Meint with HeavensHeaven's [sic] lightning, ocial mildnee glowd; Yet when him lit queynt was his leer and lie, Yet wondrous ditant from malignitie; For till his myle did forcibly dicloe The oul of worth and warm hart-honetie: Such winning grace as Age but rare betows Dwelt on his cheeks and lips, though like the withering roe.