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But plucked and strained through ruder hands,
SEARCH AFTER GOD.
No inore her sweetness with her dwells, I SOUGHT thee round about, O thou my But scent and beauty both are gone, And leaves fall from her, one by one.
O LULL me, lull me, charming air!
My senses rock with wonder sweet:
Grief who need fear
Down let him lie
In thine abode.
I said unto the earth, "Speak, art thou
"I am not." I inquired of creatures all,
That none amongst them challenged such
If any feathered fowl 'mongst them were