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How* hea|vy do | I journ|ey on | the way,
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When what | I seek | (my wear|y trav|el's end)
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Doth^teach | that^ease | and that | repose | to
say
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Thus^far | the miles | are meas|ured from | thy
friend.
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The beast | that bears | me, tir|ed with | my woe,
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Plods duly^on,| to bear | that weight | in
me,
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As if | by some | instinct the wretch | did
know
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His rid|er loved | not* speed | being made | from
thee.
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The blood|y spur | cannot | provoke | him on,
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That some|times^ang|er thrusts | into | his hide,
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Which^heav|ily | he ans|wers with | a groan,
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More sharp | to me | than spur|ring to | his
side;
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For* that same groan | doth^put | this^in | my
mind,
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My grief | lies^on|ward, and | my joy | behind.