That Baalls worship’t in the groves againe?
Tell mee how curst an egging, what a sting
Of lust do their unwildy daunces bring?
The simple wretches say they meane no harme,
They doe not, surely; but their actions warme
Our purer blouds the more: for Sathan thus
Tempts us the more, that are more righteous.
Oft hath a Brother most sincerely gon,
Stifled in prayer and contemplation,
When lighting on the place where such repaire,