In-Text |
'Tis brutish, of the worser kind, to stand gently at the Crib. but fling and throw at the Yoke. Shall God only stroak, and never strike us? Good Job, you hear, doth equally acquiesce in Good and Evil, from the hand of God. An Heavenly Temper, this! |
It's brutish, of the Worse kind, to stand gently At the Crib. but fling and throw At the Yoke. Shall God only stroke, and never strike us? Good Job, you hear, does equally acquiesce in Good and Evil, from the hand of God. an Heavenly Temper, this! |
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