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Section 338
Passage 1 of 1 · section 338 of 959
1Rom.
2Would I were sleepe and peace so sweet to rest,
3The gray ey'd morne smiles on the frowning night,
4Checkring the Easterne Clouds with streakes of light,
5And darkenesse fleckel'd like a drunkard reeles,
6From forth dayes pathway, made by Titans wheeles.
7Hence will I to my ghostly Fries close Cell,
8His helpe to craue, and my deare hap to tell.