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Robert Southwell

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My faultless breast the furnace is, the fuel wounding thorns;
Love is the fire and sighs the smoke, the ashes shame and scorns;
The fuel Justice layeth on, and Mercy blows the coals;
The metal in this furnace wrought are men's defiled souls.
--
"The Burning Babe", line 9; pp. 98-9.

 
Robert Southwell

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