In-Text |
and we go to heaven in a bed of roses, tread on carpets, ride still in triumph upon the wings of pleasure? True it is, in former times, we enjoyed Halcyon daies of peace, sitting under our own Vines and Fig-trees, singing the song of Sion, and tuning our own harps in a melodious harmony, having no Townes but Salems, no men but friends; |
and we go to heaven in a Bed of roses, tread on carpets, ride still in triumph upon the wings of pleasure? True it is, in former times, we enjoyed Halcyon days of peace, sitting under our own Vines and Figtrees, singing the song of Sion, and tuning our own harps in a melodious harmony, having no Towns but Salems, no men but Friends; |
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