To Sir Annual Tilter

Tilter, the most may admire thee, though not I:
And thou, right guiltless, mayst plead to it, why?
For thy late sharp device. I say 'tis fit
All brains, at times of triumph, should run wit.
For then, our water-conduits do run wine;
But that's put in, thou'lt say. Why, so is thine.
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