By
John Donne.
Hee hath engag'd her; his, she wholy bides;
Who not
her owne, none others secrets hides.
If to the flocke he come, and Abell
there,
She faines hoarse barkings, but she biteth not,
Her faith
is quite, but not her love forgot.
At last a trap, of which some every
where
Abell had plac'd, ends all his losse, and feare,
By the
Wolves death; and now just time it was
That a quicke soule should give
life to that masse
Of blood in Abells bitch, and thither this did
passe.
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