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[IX. A Sparow Hauke proude did hold in wicked Iayle]

A Sparow Hauke proude did hold in wicked Iayle

A Sparow Hauke proude did hold in wicked Iayle, Musickes sweet Chorister, The Nightingale, To whom with sighes she said, oh set mee free, and in my song, Ile praise, no bird but thee: The Hauke replide, I will not loose my dyet, To let a thousand such enioy their quiet.