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Section 522
Passage 1 of 4 · section 522 of 833
1Wol.
2So farewell, to the little good you beare me.
3Farewell? A long farewell to all my Greatnesse.
4This is the state of Man; to day he puts forth
5The tender Leaues of hopes, to morrow Blossomes,
6And beares his blushing Honors thicke vpon him:
7The third day, comes a Frost; a killing Frost,
8And when he thinkes, good easie man, full surely