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In the sea without lees Standeth the bird of Hermes Eating his wings variable And maketh himself yet full stable When all his feathers be from him gone He standeth still here as a stone Here is now both white and red And all so the stone to quicken the dead All and some without fable Both hard and soft and malleable Understand now well and right And thank you God of this sight
The bird of Hermes is my name eating my wings to make me tame.