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112 O little did they care who danced between, And little she by whom her dance was seen So she danced. No thought, Body perfection brought,

For what but eye and ear silence the mind With the minute particulars of mankind? Mind moved yet seemed to stop As 'twere a spinning-top.

In contemplation had those three so wrought Upon a moment, and so stretched it out That they, time overthrown, Were dead yet flesh and bone.