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Richard Lovelace - To Dr. F. B[eale]; On His Book Of Chesse.
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Sir, how unravell`d is the golden fleece:
Men, that could only fool at FOX AND GEESE,
Are new-made polititians by thy book,
And both can judge and conquer with a look.
The hidden fate of princes you unfold;
Court, clergy, commons, by your law control`d.
Strange, serious wantoning all that they
Bluster`d and clutter`d for, you PLAY.
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