Chrestoleros | ||
Epigr. 16. Ad Lectorem.
Reader, there is no biting in my verse;No gall, no wormewood, no cause of offence.
And yet there is a biting I confesse
And sharpenesse tempred to a wholsome sense.
Such are my Epigrams well vnderstood,
As salt which bites the wound, but doth it good.
Chrestoleros | ||