ONE THOUSAND
SEVEN HUNDRED
AND
THIRTY EIGHT.
DIALOGUE.
A.
ot twice a twelvemonth you appear in Print,
And when it comes, the Court see nothing in't.
You grow correct that once with Rapture writ,
And are, besides, too Moral for a Wit.
Decay of Parts, alas! we all must feel— 5
Why now, this moment, don't I see you steal?
A.
ot twice a twelvemonth you appear in Print,And when it comes, the Court see nothing in't.
You grow correct that once with Rapture writ,
And are, besides, too Moral for a Wit.
Decay of Parts, alas! we all must feel— 5
Why now, this moment, don't I see you steal?
'Tis
