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- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T21:13:56.055Z
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- 627
- text
- THE PHOENIX AND TURTLE
That it cried, How true a twain
Seemeth this concordant one!
Love hath reason, reason none,
If what parts can so remain.
Whereupon it made this threne
To the phœnix and the dove,
Co-supremes and stars of love,
As chorus to their tragic scene.
THRENOS.
Beauty, truth, and rarity,
Grace in all simplicity,
Here enclosed in cinders lie.
Death is now the phœnix’ nest;
And the turtle’s loyal breast
To eternity doth rest,
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THE PHŒNIX AND TURTLE
Leaving no posterity:—
'Twas not their infirmity,
It was married chastity.
Truth may seem, but cannot be;
Beauty brag, but 'tis not she;
Truth and beauty buried be.
To this urn let those repair
That are either true or fair;
For these dead birds sigh a prayer.
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NILL - RANS O M
No. 3426 CAT. 1 ENT. 3
From C. Richardson
Recd 2/149 $1.77
B R A R Y - RE C O R D
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- title
- THE PHOENIX AND TURTLE