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he Laurell,[*] meed of mightie ConqueroursAnd Poets sage, the firre that weepeth still,[*]The Willow[*] worne of forlorne Paramours, 75The Eugh[*] obedient to the benders will,The Birch for shaftes, the Sallow for the mill,The Mirrhe[*] sweete bleeding in the bitter wound,The warlike Beech,[*] the Ash for nothing ill,[*]The fruitfull Olive, and the Platane round, 80The carver Holme,[*] the Maple seeldom inward sound. X Led with delight, they thus beguile the way,Untill the blustring storme is overblowne;When weening to returne, whence they did stray,They cannot finde that path, which first was showne, 85But wander too and fro in wayes unknowne,Furthest from end then, when they neerest weene,That makes them doubt their wits be not their owne:So many pathes, so many turnings seene,That which of them to take, in diverse doubt they been. 90
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