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Sonnet. 4.
[Corruption, Incorruption hath put on]
Corruption, Incorruption hath put on,
Immortall, weake mortality is made:
Earths wo hath gain'd a happy heauenly throne,
By death, life dyes, by life deaths force doth fade
Though death kill life, yet life doth conquer death,
Death but puts off our Rags of shame and sinne:
When for a moment's an eternall breath,
Life (passing through the dore of death) doth win.
This thou well knowst (my much beloued friend)
And therefore thou didst dare death to his worst,
But he (much busied) could not thee attend,
Or durst not, till thy cares thy heart had burst.
And then the slaue came stealing like a thiefe,
And 'gainst his will, did giue thy woes reliefe.
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