XCI
Oh! cast my dust away from thee, and doff
Thy cloak of sycophancy and like stuff:
I'm but a shadow on the sandy waste,—
Enough of thy duplicity, enough!
XCII
Behold! the Veil that hid thy soul is torn
And all thy secrets on the winds are borne:
The hand of Sin has written on thy face
"Awake, for these untimely furrows warn!"
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