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To his Mother.
Epigram 13.
Vngratefull is the childe that can forgetThe Mothers many pains, her cares, her feares,
And therefore, though I cannot pay the debt
Due for the smallest drop of your kinde teares;
This Book I for acknowledgement do give you,
Wherein you may perceive my heart and minde;
Let never false report of me more grieve you,
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Love made you apt to feare those slanders true,
Which in my absence were but lately sown;
It was a motherly distrust in you,
But those that rais'd them are false villains known.
For though I must confesse I am indeed
The vilest to my selfe that lives this time;
Yet to the world-ward I have tane such heed,
There's none can spot me with a haynous crime.
This I am forc'd to speak, you best know why;
And I dare strike him that dare say I lye?
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