HAd I believd report, that said,
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These Rhymes by Doctor Wyld were made,
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I long before this time had sent
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Some symptoms of our discontent.
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For since y have left off being witty,
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Your humble thanks deserves our pitty.
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I cant imagine what youl do,
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Your Muse turnd Non-conformist to?
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And will not easily dispence
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With the old way of writing sence!
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She hath receivd, if that be true,
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As much Indulgence then as you.
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Surely (Dear Sir) you did not pray
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Since you conversd with Tychobrah.
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Jove playd the wag, and Luna pist,
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Do these things with Free-Grace consist?
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Celestial signs serve to express
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The good mans heavnly mindedness;
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There are but twelve of them in Heaven,
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Yet hel name one by one eleven;
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And if your not in too much hast,
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Tis ten to one, he names the last.
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You had been horribly put to t,
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If Sagittarius could not shoot:
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Aquarius and the Smyrna Fleet,
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Ile swear, a very good conceit.
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But, Doctor, let us know, why will ye
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Thus vex your self at William Lilly:
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Tis true, he could not find it out,
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That March would bring all this about;
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But on that day you well might gather
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That there would be some change of weather:
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