University of Virginia Library

CXXIII.

[Hur.]
When swift-foot time doth roll the day along,
Some hamlet shall unto our fiery brend;
Bursting e'en like a rock, or mountain strong,

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The tall church-spire upon the green shall bend;
We will the walls and ancient towers rend,
Raze every tree which golden fruit doth bear,
Down to the gods the owners thereof send,
Besprinkling all abroad sad war and bloody weere.
But first to yonder oak-tree we will fly
And thence will issue out on all that cometh by.

[Exeunt.