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To a pleasant new Tune. |
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i AWay, Away; make no delay, this Newes requireth hast; Boy, mount thy Mare, post hence to Ware,
thou canst not ride too fast; And as thou rid'st through euery Towne,
blow forth this liuely blast: All Cittizens Wiues
Are grown constant and sound, And say, That Truth doth abound, In euery Taylors
Shop to bee found. |
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