p.
| |
If thou beest borne to strange sights, Things invisible to see Ride ten thousand daies, and Nights Till age snow white haires on thee; Thou when thou returnst will tell mee, All strange wonders that befell thee; And swere No where Liues a woman true and faire. If thou finde one, lett mee knowe Such a Pilgrimage were sweete, Yett doe not: I would not goe, Though att next dore wee might meete: Though shee were true when yow mett her, And last till yow writt your letter, Yett shee Will bee False, ere I come to two or three.| The eand of the |
 |