In-Text |
and there lies round about this City, at all the corners of it, a Wood of Briats and Thorns, Scorpions and Serpents and Lyons abounding in it, and the Wood is ten thousand miles of bounds on all hands, of a journey of threescore years at some parts, there no high road-way in the Wood, no back entry about; |
and there lies round about this city, At all the corners of it, a Wood of Briats and Thorns, Scorpions and Serpents and Lyons abounding in it, and the Wood is ten thousand miles of bounds on all hands, of a journey of threescore Years At Some parts, there no high roadway in the Wood, no back entry about; |
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Note 0 |
Heaven is fenced with a wood of thorns there is no way to it, but through many afflictions. |
Heaven is fenced with a wood of thorns there is no Way to it, but through many afflictions. |
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