Tixall Poetry/A Glasse Chayne Broken

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A Glasse Chayne Broken.

Cease to proclayme the victory,
And trophy of your ether eye;
Vaunt me no more your captive there,
Enchayned in a single haire:
Thees weire glorious fetters too,
And every linke as strong as you;
And yet you see the chayne is broke,
And I in tyme may slip the yoake.

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