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There is no thing which, built through heav'ns hand,
though woven gold of purest vein
or wise beyond the means of mortal man,
Is angled tru'r than my beloved's face,
or golden more than heart so pure
which Wisdom fashioned from the cast of grace.
Last eve did Wisdom, to my soul, confide
her golden plan so soon devised -
to fix this star forever to my side
Which never harm nor sorrow could evict
through scheme of dev'l or angels birth
(so firm would be it's heav'nly purpose fixed).
And this I speak on word of promise true
by all that lights our pathway trodd'n
of feet which, many times before us, knew
That you, though far, by Wisdom's hand shall be
soon from my heart to in my arms
whence never would I bid you part from me.
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