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Soul is the man. - [Soul] There is a garden in her face, Where roses and white lilies blow; A heavenly paradise is that place, Wherein all pleasant fruits do grow. There cherries grow that none may buy, Till cherry ripe themselves do cry. - claims these lines in note To Reader, in "Fourth Book of Airs" [Face] Time's fatal wings do ever forward fly; To every day we live, a day we die. - Come, Cheerful Day [Time] And I still onward haste to my last night; Time's fatal winds do ever forward fly; So every day we live, a day we die. - Divine and Moral Songs [Death]
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