In-Text |
My Text of Death so painted to the Life, that he, that runs may read it; If e're twere true, tis now, that, Pictures are Idiots Books; Look on that dolefull Picture of fading Youth and Greatness; and you that can never a Letter in the Book, may spell the whole Story, word for word, without Instructer. |
My Text of Death so painted to the Life, that he, that runs may read it; If ever it true, this now, that, Pictures Are Idiots Books; Look on that doleful Picture of fading Youth and Greatness; and you that can never a letter in the Book, may spell the Whole Story, word for word, without Instructer. |
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