Wit A Sporting In a pleasant Grove Of New Fancies | ||
64
To Zounds the Swaggerer
What dost thou mean to revel, roare, and spendTo drink, and drabble, and swear so? wilt thou rend
Thy way to Hell? The Devil will spy day
At a small hole, and snach his Chuck away.
Wit A Sporting In a pleasant Grove Of New Fancies | ||