In-Text |
for all our Life past what hath it beene but a kind of Death? To those that sayle in this troublesome and tempestuous Sea of the world there is no Port, or Haven, but Death: and yet notwithstanding al this, let it be a mans owne case, |
for all our Life passed what hath it been but a kind of Death? To those that sail in this troublesome and tempestuous Sea of the world there is no Port, or Haven, but Death: and yet notwithstanding all this, let it be a men own case, |
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