 | Wit A Sporting In a pleasant Grove Of New Fancies |  |
On Josephs Cloke.
The Snake his slough, the Dove her plumes cast,(Whose innocence & purdence hold we fast)
As Joseph left his garment, yet retain'd
A jewel, which once lost is ne're regain'd.
Thou stone-cold chastity far off doth flye,
And Lust assumes the Cloke of modesty.
| Wit A Sporting In a pleasant Grove Of New Fancies | |