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More angry Satyr-dayes ile muster vp,
Then thou canst challenge letters in thy name:
My Negrum true borne inck no more shall sup,
Thy stayned blemish, charracterd in blame.
My pens two nebs shall turne unto a forke,
Chasing old Enuy from so young a worke:
I but the Authors mouth bid thee auaunt,
He more defies thy Hate, thy hunt, thy haunt.
T. M. Gent.
