 | Miscellaneous works of George Wither |  |
These were my words:
A homebred Lyon, of a Hair unknownIn Affrica, by being over-grown,
And dreadful to his Keepers, shall thereby
Increase the rage of smother'd Jealousie,
And loose his Tail, except betwixt his paws
He couch his head, and hides his teeth and claws,
Or else grows Rampant: what will follow then?
Ask those you credit, they are cunning men;
Of me you ask in vain, for tis my fate
Never to be believ'd, till 'tis too late.
| Miscellaneous works of George Wither | |