 | The Mastive, or Young-Whelpe of the Olde-Dogge |  |
Aperit sua crimina somnis.
Ivdith is growne (God blesse her) such a Bride,For face and feature, and in truth excells:
Worthy to solace by the best mans side,
Throughout that Streete and Parish where she dwells:
Wer't not for one defect, confounds all this,
She vseth nightly in her bed to ------.
| The Mastive, or Young-Whelpe of the Olde-Dogge | |