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'The aged man that coffers-up his gold (856)

Is plagued with cramps and gouts and painful fits; (857)

And scarce hath eyes his treasure to behold, (858)

But like still-pining Tantalus he sits, (859)

And useless barns the harvest of his wits;
Having no other pleasure of his gain (861)

But torment that it cannot cure his pain.

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