In-Text |
The Sparks grew into mighty Flames, and those Vapours into Thunder and Tempests: The whispers of the Corner past into the noise of a Camp; and the murmurs of the Street into the sound of the Trumpet. The Cloud like an hand, became a Magazine of Storms; and our New lights set us all on Fire. The Pulpit sounded as much War as the Drum; and the Preacher spit as much flame as the Cannon. Curse ye Meroz was the Text, and Blood and Plunder the Comment and the Use. |
The Sparks grew into mighty Flames, and those Vapours into Thunder and Tempests: The whispers of the Corner passed into the noise of a Camp; and the murmurs of the Street into the found of the Trumpet. The Cloud like an hand, became a Magazine of Storms; and our New lights Set us all on Fire. The Pulpit sounded as much War as the Drum; and the Preacher spit as much flame as the Cannon. Curse you Meroz was the Text, and Blood and Plunder the Comment and the Use. |
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