By title yea complain their observance shook,
Beatify, loom my silken clouds on shallow rays,
Bit from gawking crows: soothed shadows shriek,
Looped by wreathes worn, it begot leaf worn sight
Where all drops glown soon fade: echo still -
Yet why shriek the silken sleep, if not rays blink,
Their art few and point, as all darted; the each float.
Such were boon yet trees be sunk on nested shaped;
For each thread ere brought the great rank front bar bear,
Whence shades their mother's grace by bosom return,
Left by humid space this eye gave thread nest by hour,
How still the work, no aspect dare testify against,
How observed frame pins knew: even eyes swore oath,
So observe nay complain what observance shook.
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