XLVII
I heard it whispered in the cryptic streets
Where every sage the same dumb shadow meets:
"We are but words fallen from the lipe of Time
Which God, that we might understand, repeats."
XLVIII
Another said: "The creeping worm hath shown,
In her discourse on human flesh and bone,
That Man was once the bed on which she slept—
The walking dust was once a thing of stone."
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