Fowre Hymnes
Thenceforth they playne, and make ful piteous mone Unto the author of their balefull bane: The daies they waste, the nights they grieve and grone, Their lives they loath, and heavens light disdaine.
Thenceforth they playne, and make ful piteous mone Unto the author of their balefull bane: The daies they waste, the nights they grieve and grone, Their lives they loath, and heavens light disdaine.
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