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Satyre .2. |
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Away thou changeling motly Humorist [61] |
Leaue mee, and in this standing woodden chist |
Consorted with these few bookes let mee lye |
In prison, and heere bee coffin'd when I dye |
Heere are Gods conduits, graue Diuines, and heere |
Natures Secretary the Philosopher, |
And wily statesmen, wch teach how to tye |
The sinnews of a Cittyes mistique body, |
Heere gathering Chroniclers, and by them stand |
Giddy fantastique Poets of each Land. |
Shall I leaue all this constant company |
And follow headlong wild vncertayne Thee? |
First sweare heere by thy best Loue in earnest |
(If thou, who lou'st all, canst loue any best) |
Thou wilt not leaue mee in the middle streete |
Though some more spruce companion thou dost meete |
Not though a Captayne doe come in thy way |
Bright parcel guilt with 40 dead mens pay |
Nor though a briske perfumd pert Courtier |
Daigne with a nodd thy Courtsies to answere. |
Nor come a veluet Iustice, with a long |
Greate trayne of Blew coates 12 or 14 strong |
Shalt thou grinne or fawne on him, or prpare |
A speeche to court his beauteous sonne and heyre |
For better or worse take mee|, or| leaue mee |
To take |and| leaue mee is Adultery
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[CW: Ô___] |