Roasted whole, with a pudding in's belly.

A little further in,
Hung a third by his chin,
And a fourth cut all in quarters.
O that Fox had now been living,
They had been sure of heaven,
Or, at the least, been some of his martyrs.




TO

THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

THE

LORD CLIFFORD

OF

CHUDLEIGH[1].


MY LORD,

After so many favours, and those so great, conferred on me by your
lordship these many years,--which I may call more properly one
continued act of your generosity and goodness,--I know not whether I