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The louer hopeth of better chance.
He is not dead, that somtime had a fall.The Sonne returnes, that hid was vnder clowd.
And when Fortune hath spit out all her gall,
I trust, good luck to me shall be alowd.
For, I haue seen a ship in hauen fall,
After that storme hath broke both maste, and shroude.
The willowe eke, that stoupeth with the winde,
Doth rise againe, and greater wood doth binde.
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