And fearing lest the torments he felt, might in some sort entender his wifes heart[…], he besought her to be pleased she might be caried into the next chamber, which was accordingly performed.
They are prettier cut and gimped in the shape of wheels.
O GENTLE Maiden! may an humble Muse / That oft hath sought thy fair Approof to gain / One look benign from thy meek eye obtain / While now she culls the flowrets Nature strews / All in her simple Walks, no cultur'd Plain.
But when, obedient to the mode / Of panegyric, courtly ode / The bard bestrides, his annual hack, / In vain I taste, and sip and smack, / I find no flavour of the Sack.
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