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The blacke Dogge of Newgate: both piththy, pleasant, and profitable, for all readers.
WHen as blacke Tytan with his duskie robe,
had Tellus clouded with his curtaynes nyght,
Fayre Phebus peering vnderneath earthes globe
with winged steedes hence takes his course a right:
Tytan he leaues to beare imperial sway,
commaunding nyght, as Phebus did the day.
The fierie Chariot posteth vnder ground.
With Tytans mantle all the earth is spred,
And wreathes of Icat about his temples bound:
Earthes Tell cole blacke, sweete Morpheus cals to bed.
No time to walke, to sport, to game, to see,
I did obey, that must commaunded bee.
Layed in my bed, I gan for to recount,
A thousand thinges, which had been in my time:
My birth, my youth, my woes, which all surmount,
My life, my losse, my libertie my crime:
Then where I was, vnto my minde recalling,
Mee thought Earth gapt, and I to Hell was falling.
Amidst these feares that all my senses cumber,
Care closd mine eyes, and sorrow wroung my hart:
Opprest with greefe, mine eye-lids gan to slumber,
But borne to woes, must of more woes haue part:
A thousand furies to my hart appearing,
〈…〉〈…〉 torments my soule with fearing.