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Eleg. 17.

[Thrice happy had I been, if I had kept]

Thrice happy had I been, if I had kept
Within the circuit of some little Village,
In ignorance of Courts and Princes slept,
Manuring of an honest halfe-plough tillage:
Or else I would I were as young agen
As when Eliza our last Phœnix di'd:
My childish yeares had not conceived then
What 'twas to lose a Prince so dignifi'd.

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But now I know: And what now doth't avail?
Alas, whilst others merry feel no pain,
I melancholy sit alone and wail:
Thus sweetest profit yeelds the bitter'st gain.
By disobedience we did knowledge get,
And sorrow ever since hath followed it.