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'O,' quoth Lucretius, 'I did give that life (1801)

Which she too early and too late hath spill'd.' (1802)

'Woe, woe,' quoth Collatine, 'she was my wife, (1803)

I owed her, and 'tis mine that she hath kill'd.' (1804)

'My daughter' and 'my wife' with clamours fill'd
The dispersed air, who, holding Lucrece' life, (1806)

Answer'd their cries, 'my daughter' and 'my wife.'

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