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To the Sleep
John Kochanowski
Tom I p 193
Sleep, that teachest man to die
had givest him the foretaste of
Make my mortal frame sleep for a while
Let my soul soar unenthralled
Whether she likes where the Sun arises bright day takes birth
Whether where the Evening it extinguishes in the evening
Or where lay eternal snows and ice
Or where the faintains ar dried up by heat.
Permit her to number the Shows on the firmament.
And gaze from at hand upon their complicated evolu circles.
And how the spheres passing near each other
Make an aerial music fascinating the ear.
Let her taste that pleasure in its fulness
And And Let the lagging body, that likes repose
Not feel any torturing longings
But learn before hand, what it is to die
familiarize it with the image of th death.
Identifier: | JB/110/078/004 "JB/" can not be assigned to a declared number type with value 110.
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thren vii by john kochanowski / to the sleep |
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collectanea |
4 |
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recto |
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sir john bowring |
ia 1820 |
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fr4 |
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1820 |
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36068 |
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