Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside
XLIV
Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside,
And naked on the Air of Heaven ride,
Were 't not a Shame--were 't not a Shame for him
In this clay carcase crippled to abide?
Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside,
And naked on the Air of Heaven ride,
Were 't not a Shame--were 't not a Shame for him
In this clay carcase crippled to abide?
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