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'To thee, to thee, my heaved-up hands appeal, (639)

Not to seducing lust, thy rash relier: (640)

I sue for exiled majesty's repeal; (641)

Let him return, and flattering thoughts retire: (642)

His true respect will prison false desire,
And wipe the dim mist from thy doting eyne, (644)

That thou shalt see thy state and pity mine.'

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