an Heroick Poem.
243
80.
But, Goltho, flie from Lust's experiments,
Whose heat we quench much sooner than asswage,
To quench the Fornace-lust stop all the vents,
For give it any Air the Flames will rage.
But, Goltho, flie from Lust's experiments,
Whose heat we quench much sooner than asswage,
To quench the Fornace-lust stop all the vents,
For give it any Air the Flames will rage.
FINIS.
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POST-SCRIPT
To the Reader.
I Am here arriv'd at the middle of the Third Book, which makes an equal half of the POEM; and I was now by degrees to present you (as I promised in the Preface) the several Keys of the main Building; which should convey you through such short Walks as give an easie view of the whole Frame. But 'tis high time to strike Sail, and cast Anchor (though I have run
