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115 | 'Your renown is but the hue of grass, which comes | ||||||
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116 | and goes, and the same sun that makes it spring | ||||||
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117 | green from the ground will wither it.' | ||||||
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118 | And I to him: 'Your true words pierce my heart | ||||||
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119 | with fit humility and ease a heavy swelling there. | ||||||
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120 | But who is he of whom you spoke just now?' | ||||||
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