England's Antiphon

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CHANGE SHOULD BREED CHANGE.

New doth the sun appear;
The mountains' snows decay;

Crowned with frail flowers comes forth the baby year.

My soul, time posts away;
And thou yet in that frost,
Which flower and fruit hath lost,

As if all here immortal were, dost stay!

For shame! thy powers awake;

Look to that heaven which never night makes black; And there, at that immortal sun's bright rays, Deck thee with flowers which fear not rage of days.





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