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						|  |  | Penelope for 
						her Vlisses sake, Deuiz'd a Web her wooers to 
						deceaue:
 in which the worke that she all day did 
						make
 the same at night she did againe vnreaue,
 Such subtile craft my Damzell doth conceaue,
 th'importune suit of my desire to shonne:
 for all 
						that I in many dayes doo weaue,
 in one short houre I 
						find by her vndonne.
 So when I thinke to end that I 
						begonne,
 I must begin and neuer bring to end:
 for with one looke she spils that long I sponne,
 & 
						with one word my whole years work doth rend.
 Such 
						labour like the Spyders web I fynd,
 whose fruitlesse 
						worke is broken with least wynd.
 
 
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