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 Wind me into the eaie hearted man, And hug him into nares; when once her eye Hath met the vertue of this Magick dut, I hall appeare ome harmlee Villager Whom thrift keepes up about his Country geare But here he comes, I fairly tep aide And hearken, if I may, her buinee here.

This way the noie was, if mine eare be true My bet guide now, me thought it was the ound Of Riot, and ill manag'd Merriment, Such as the jocund Flute, or gameome Pipe Stirs up among the looe unleter'd Hinds When for their teeming Flocks, and granges full In wanton dance they praie the bounteous Pan, And thanke the gods amie. I hould be loath To meet the rudenee and will'd inolence Of uoc [sic]h late Waailers; yet ô where ele Shall I informe my unacquainted feet In the blind mazes of this tangled wood? My Brothers when they aw me wearied out With this long way, reolving here to lodge Under the preading favour of thee Pines Stept as they e'd, to the next Thicket ide To bring me Berries, or uch cooling fruit As the kind hopitable woods provide. They left me then, when the gray-hooded Ev'n Like a ad Votarit in Palmers weeds Roe from the hindmot wheels of Phœbus waine. But where they are, and why they came not back Is now the labour of my thoughts, 'tis likeliet They