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Section 1001
Passage 1 of 2 · section 1001 of 1004
1Sooth.
2The fingers of the Powres aboue, do tune
3The harmony of this Peace: the Vision
4Which I made knowne to Lucius ere the stroke
5Of yet this scarse‑cold‑Battaile, at this instant
6Is full accomplish'd. For the Romaine Eagle
7From South to West, on wing soaring aloft
8Lessen'd her selfe, and in the Beames o'th'Sun