You see this gentle stream that glides, Shoved on, by quick-succeeding tides: Try if this sober stream you can Follow to th’ wider ocean, And see, if there it keeps unspent In that congesting element. Next, from that world of waters, then By pores and caverns back again Induct that inadultrate same Stream to the spring from whence it came. This with a wonder when ye do, As easy, and else easier too: Then ye may recollect the grains Of my particular remains, After a thousand lusters hurled, By roughing winds, around the world.
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