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# THE RAPE OF LVCRECE Poore broken glass, I often did behold In thy sweet semblance, my old age new borne, But now that faire fresh mirror dim and old Shews me a bare bond death by time out-worne, O from thy cheekes my image thou hast torne, And shiuerd all the beautie of my glass, That I no more can see what once I was. O time cease thou thy course and last no longer, If they surcease to be that should suruiue: Shall rotten death make conquest of the stronger, And leaue the foultring feeble foules aliue? The old Bees die, the young possesse their hiue, Then liue sweet LVCRECE, liue againe and see Thy father die, and not thy father thee. By this starts COLATINE as from a dreame, And bids LVCRECIVS giue his sorrow place, And than in key-cold LVCRECE bleeding streame He fals, and bathes the pale seare in his face, And counterfaits to die with her a space. Till manly shame bids him possesse his breath, And liue to be rewenged on her death. M 3 11. 1758—1778
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