To M. Laurence Swetnaham
Read thou my Lines, my Swetnaham, if there be
A fault, tis hid, if it be voic't by thee.
Thy mouth will make the sourest numbers please;
How will it drop pure hony, speaking these?
A fault, tis hid, if it be voic't by thee.
Thy mouth will make the sourest numbers please;
How will it drop pure hony, speaking these?
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