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 To my honoured friend S: T. Lucey.
 
 sir,
 I make account that this writing of letters,
 when it is with any seriousness, is a kind
 of extasie, and a departure and secession and
 suspension of the soul, wch doth then commu-
 nicate it self to two bodies: And as I would
 every day provide for my souls last convoy,
 though I know not when I shall die, and
 perchance I shall never die; so for these
 extasies in letters, I oftentimes deliver my
 self over in writing when I know not
 when those letters shall be sent to you,
 and many times they never are, for I have a
 little satisfaction in seeing a letter written
 to you upon my table, though I meet no
 opportunity of sending it. Especially this
 summer, when either by my early retiring
 home, or your irresolutions of your own
 purposes, or some other possessions of yours
 you did lesse reveale to me your progresses,
 and stations, and where I might crosse you
 by letters, then heretofore: I make shift
 [CW: to]
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