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The Author to the Praisers of his booke.
It feares me, that your kinde heroicall LayesAre too transcendent for my humble straine:
And Loadstone-like drawe to themselues the praise;
And so my Muse receaue a dull disdaine.
No force, I hope your lines will sooth some one
To read my Booke, and descant therevpon.
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