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And we her sad glad friends all beare a part |
Of griefe, for all would waste a Stoicks heart. |
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Elegie to the Lady Bedford. |
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You that are she, and you that's double shee, |
In her dead face, halfe of your selfe shall see; |
Shee was the other part, for so they doe |
Which build them friendships, become one of two; |
So two, that but themselves no third can fit, |
Which were to be so, when they were not yet |
Twinnes, though their birth Cusco, and Musco take, |
As divers starres one Constellation make, |
Pair'd like two eyes, have equall motion, so |
Both but one meanes to see, one way to goe; |
Had you dy'd first, a carcasse shee had beene; |
And wee your rich Tombe in her face had seene; |
She like the Soule is gone, and you here stay |
Not a live friend; but thother halfe of clay; |
And since you act that part, As men say, here |
Lies such a Prince, when but one part is there; |
And do all honour: and devotion due; |
Unto the whole, so wee all reverence you; |
For, such a friendship who would not adore |
In you, who are all what both was before, |
Not all, as if some perished by this, |
But so, as all in you contracted is; |
As of this all, though many parts decay,
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[CW: The] |