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To the Lady Bedford. |
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You that are she, and you that's double she; |
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 she had beene; |
And we your rich Tombe in her face had seene; |
She like the Soule is gone, aud you here stay |
Not a live friend, but th'other halfe of clay; |
And since you act that part, As men say, here |
Lies such a Prince, when but one part is there; |
And doe all honour and devotion due |
Vnto the whole, so we all reverence you; |
For, such a friendship, who would not adore |
In you, who are all what both were 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, |
The pure which elemented them shall stay; |
And though diffus'd, and spred in infinite, |
Shall recollect, and in one All unite: |
So Madame, as her Soule to heaven is fled, |
Her flesh rests in the earth, as in the bed;
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[CW: Her] |