Looped round its thorn were shards of Midas,
Whose hand brought tears by limestones wrung,
Large their hoisting come silk flown soft
Then gave wreathes upon her head shone anew,
As all iris bore Sun, and her heart could not show,
Bare laid such sweet songs by foxed sheets abide,
And the muses swooned at those words applaud,
Now they heaved by rock and blade till rubies cool
Gasped by such cut gem whose drops dry depart,
Even by Mars' ice whom no man daren't walk
Had given its water by salty sheets of hearth denied:
Lady: what tears are these from which Mars gave ye?
Have it that your spears shook your legs and trembled,
Then only one remained that cast the emblem deigned,
Even if Mars took you by the chains and then you woke,
Your blinding tears do not weep themselves; they recite
Ne place walls much ye gasp unless be washed,
Appealed God, then He gave legs thine a dash,
Once they walked, does Midas dare then trip you?
O I see a world moved 'neath the legs stood 'neath,
And whether you do or no, that world is not still,
And God is Most Testing and Most Patient.
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