Don'tlookatmedon'ttalktomedon'tcomenearmedon'ttouchmeleavemealone

"Beauty is but a flower,

Which wrinkles will devour;

Brightness falls from the air;

Queens have died young and fair;

Dust hath closed Helen's eye.

I am sick, I must die;

Lord have mercy on us."

Thomas Nash, Song in Time of Pestilence

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