Wit A Sporting In a pleasant Grove Of New Fancies | ||
41
The Usurer.
He puts forth Money, as the Hangman sowes,His fatal Hemp-seed, that with curses growes.
So growes his damn'd wealth in the Devils name,
That doth in hel the Harvest home proclaim;
For which deep reason my poor Muse preferrs
This sute, that Poets nere prove Vsurers.
Wit A Sporting In a pleasant Grove Of New Fancies | ||