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Thou hast finish’d joy and moan: <br> | Thou hast finish’d joy and moan: <br> | ||
All lovers young, all lovers must <br> | All lovers young, all lovers must <br> | ||
− | Consign to thee, and come to dust.<br> | + | Consign to thee, and come to dust. <ref>http://www.bartleby.com/70/4642.html</ref><br> |
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</blockquote> | </blockquote> | ||
Come To Dust | |
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Running time | 4:07 |
Appears on | Tomorrow's Harvest |
Fear no more the heat o' the sun,
Nor the furious winter's rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages:
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
Fear no more the frown o’ the great,
Thou art past the tyrant’s stroke;
Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak:
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.
Fear no more the lightning-flash,
Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finish’d joy and moan:
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust. [3]
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