That hour-glass which there you see With water fill`d, sirs, credit me, The humour was, as I have read, But lovers` tears incrystalled. Which, as they drop by drop do pass From th` upper to the under-glass, Do in a trickling manner tell, By many a watery syllable, That lovers` tears in lifetime shed Do restless run when they are dead.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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