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And lik an egles fetheres wex his heres, |
| Hise nayles lyk a briddes clawes weere, |
| Til God relessed hym a certeyn yeres, |
290 | And yaf hym wit, and thanne, with many a teere, |
| He thanked God; and evere his lyf in feere |
| Was he to doon amys, or moore trespace, |
| And til that tyme he leyd was on his beere, |
| He knew that God was ful of myght and grace. |
|
| And like an eagle's fathers were his hairs, |
| His nails like any bird's claws hooked were; |
| Till God released him after certain years |
290 | And gave him sense; and then, with many a tear, |
| He gave God thanks; thereafter all in fear |
| He lived of doing ever again trespass, |
| And till the time they laid him on his bier, |
| He knew that God was full of might and grace. |
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