No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face.
God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice.
All mankind is one volume. When one man dies, a chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language. And every chapter must be translated. God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice. But God's hand shall bind up all our scattered leaves again for that library where every book shall live open to one another
All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despair, law, chance, hath slain.
At the round earth's imagined corners, blow Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise From death, you numberless infinities Of souls **** All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despair, law, chance, hath slain.
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