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O for | my sake | do you | with For|tune chide,
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The guil|ty god|dess of | my harm|ful deeds,
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That did | not bet|ter for | my life | provide
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Than pub|lic means | which pub|lic man|ners
breeds.
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Thence comes it that | my name | receives | a
brand,
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And al|most thence | my na|ture is | subdued
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To what | it works | in, like | the dy|er's hand:
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Pity | me then,| and wish | I were | renewed,
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Whilst like a wil|ling pa|tient I | will drink,
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Potions of | eisel | gainst my | strong in|fection,
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No bit|terness | that I | will bit|ter think,
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Nor double | penance | to cor|rect cor|rection.
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Pity me | then dear friend,| and I as|sure
ye,
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Even | that your | pity is e|nough to | cure me.