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 With uch a full and unwithdrawing hand, Covering the earth with odours, fruits, and flocks Thronging the eas with pawne innumerable But all to pleae, and ate the curious tat? And et to work millions of pinning worms, That in their green hops weave the mooth-hair'd ilk To deck her Sons, and, that no corner might Be vacant of her plentie, in her owne loyns She hutch't th'all worhipt ore, and precious gems To tore her children with; if all the world Should in a pet of temperance feed on Pule, Drink the clear treame, and nothing weare but Freize, Th'all-giver would be unthank't, would be unprais'd, Not halfe his riches known, and yet depis'd, And we hould erve him as a grudging mater, As a penurious niggard of his wealth, And live like Natures batards, not her ons, Who would be quite urcharg'd with her own weight, And trangl'd with her wat fertilitie; Th'earth cumber'd, and the wing'd aire dark't with plumes, The heards would over-inultitude their Lords, The ea ore-fraught would well, and th'unsought diamonds Would o emblaze the forehead of the Deep, And o betudde with tars that they below Would grow inur'd to light, and come at lat To gaze upon the Sun with hameles brows. Lit Ladie be not coy, and be not coen'd With that ame vaunted name Virginitie, Beautie is natures coine, mut not be hoorded, But mut be currant, and the good thereof Conits in mutuall and partaken blie, Vnavourie in th'injoyment of it elfe Rh