Queen: Must the rigid struts of precedent
That fix our covenantry as stars
To the very velvet firmament
So dissolve, upon one distemper’d prayer?
Must our claim, short days ago as bankable
To visor’d men who tabulate exposures
As a helm to sconce in battle —
Now so meekly dissipate, as tissue i’ the rain?Nuncle: If wette…
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