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4 O King, even thou, the most high God unto thy Grandsire bold, Caldean land, a Nation fell gave them to have and hold. The Royal Sceptre and the Crown advanc'd whom he would have, And whom he would he pulled down, could put to death and save:

Till walking at the twelve months end, subject full Tides do fall; Excellent Majesty how gone, Court exchang'd for the Stall. Thy Grandsire on, as came to pass; at all yet minded not, As if a feigned Story, but his miserable Lot. Expell'd was for the words escap'd, memory can speak well, Hardened in pride, unheard of such, the wild Ass with did dwell: Sent to the Ox, its owner knows, undreamt of this his doom: