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Then fhaking him-Wake fwineherd Allen cries,
I've joyful news
I am the luckieft Rogue-by this no light,
the whore !
Wak'd by his fall, and heartily afraid;
Help holy cross of Broholme! (OI faint)
Up gets the miller, Allen grafps him close,
On this the feiz'd, and by a glimm'ring light
She lifts the ftaff, it fell on his bare crown,
Live to be hang'd, thou thief, Allen reply'd.
The wife the scholars curfes, binds his head,
I wak'd, and heard our harmless child complain,
Then lay down by her, chaff'd her swelling breaft,
All was contrivance, malice all and spight,
I have not parted from her all this night.
And thus the miller of his fear is eas'd,
M&E on an a
By R. F.
HLOE a coquet in her prime,
Thus weather-cocks, who for a while
EPITAPH on the MONUMENT of the Marquis of Winchester.
By Mr. DRYDEN.
E who in impious times undaunted stood,
Ark of thy ages faith and loyalty,