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 And then the giver would be better thank't, His praie due paid, for winih gluttony Ne're looks to heav'n amidt his gorgeous feat, But with beotted bae ingratitude Cramms, and blaphemes his feeder. Shall I goe on? Or have I aid enough? to him that dares Arme his profane tongue with reproachfull words Againt the Sun-clad power of Chastity Faine would I omething ay, yet to what end? Thou hat nor Eare, nor Soule to apprehend The ublime notion, and high myterie That mut be utter'd to unfold the age And erious doctrine of Virginitie, And thou art worthy that thou houldt not know More happinee then this thy præent lot. Enjoy your deere Wit, and gay Rhetorick That hath o well beene taught her dazling fence, Thou art not fit to heare thy elfe convinc't; Yet hould I trie, the uncontrouled worth Of this pure caue would kindle my rap't pirits To uch a flame of acred vehemence, That dumb things would be mov'd to ympathize, And the brute Earth would lend her nerves, and hake, Till all thy magick tructures rear'd o high Were hatter'd into heaps ore thy fale head.
 * Co. She fables not, I feele that I doe feare

Her words et off by ome uperior power; And though not mortall, yet a cold huddring dew Dips me all o' e, as when the wrath of Iove Speaks thunder, and the chaines of Erebus To ome of Saturns crew. I mut diemble, And try her yet more trongly. Come; no more, Rh