<h3><SPAN name="46">TO TIRZAH</SPAN></h3>
Whate’er is born of mortal birth<br/>
Must be consumed with the earth,<br/>
To rise from generation free:<br/>
Then what have I to do with thee?
<br/><br/>The sexes sprung from shame and pride,<br/>
Blowed in the morn, in evening died;<br/>
But mercy changed death into sleep;<br/>
The sexes rose to work and weep.
<br/><br/>Thou, mother of my mortal part,<br/>
With cruelty didst mould my heart,<br/>
And with false self-deceiving tears<br/>
Didst blind my nostrils, eyes, and ears,
<br/><br/>Didst close my tongue in senseless clay,<br/>
And me to mortal life betray.<br/>
The death of Jesus set me free:<br/>
Then what have I to do with thee?
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