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[Page 73]

(50)
As though the troubles of earth reach not above; nor yet its tarnish nor rust nor corruption; all is unsullied there where it seems the destroying hand of time has no command
The silver of the cloud swell and the gold which hems and tassels it with wealth; and the glorious purples and crimsons of its curtains, are riches and gems of light which none may miser or hoard in secret places where spiders stitch it is the shrouds of darkness and the sweat of fear erodes.
This magnificence is for all to share.
Neither the rich nor the poor by the strange favours of circumstance nor the gifts

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