Take care of my estate?
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har. But in my wishes ;For know. Sir, that the wings on which my soulIs mounted, have long since home her too nighTo stoop to any prey mat soars not upwards.Sordid and dungnill minds, compos*d of earth.In that gross element fix all their happiness ;But purer spirits, purz'd and refin*d, shake offThat clog of human u^ilty. Give me leaveT enjoy myself 5 that place that does containMy hooks, the hest companions, is to meA glorious court, where hourly I converseWith the old sages and philosophers \And sometimes, for variety, 1 conferWith kings and emperors, and weigh their counsek;Calling their victories, if unjustly got.Unto a strict account, and, m my fancy.Deface their ill-plac'd statues.** Vol. i. act. i. scene ii. [• This is the first stanza of a song by Lord Chesterjicld, R.]
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