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Sonnet 25.
[Engins of Vulcan, Heav'n-affrighting wonders]
Engins of Vulcan, Heav'n-affrighting wonders,
Like brittle glasse the Rocks to cindars breaking;
Deafning the windes, dumbing the loudest thunders;
May ye be bound a thousand yeeres from speaking.
Yee hate-peace Hacksters flesht in Massacres,
Be you for euer banisht from our soile;
Yee steeled Tooles of slaughter, wounds, and warres,
Be you condemn'd to hang, and rust a while:
Or (not to languish in so fruit-less rest)
Be you transform'd to husband furniture,
To plow those fields you haue so oft deprest:
Or (if you cannot leaue your wonted vre)
Leaue (at the least) all mutinous alarmes,
And be from hence-forth Iustice lawfull Armes.
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