Soon as the bending Scythe, And Sickle keen, have shear'd the golden Grain, Array'd in all the Equipage of Death, Forth the stern Sportsman stalks

At that point W. B. Crumpton, the regular blurter of truths, boasted about what many fellow Baptists might not have wanted to own up to and which they would have found embarrassing to admit.

Yet not overnear Let him approach.

Mote not miſlike you alſo to abate / Your zealous haſt, till morrovv next againe / Both light of heuen, and ſtrength of men relate: […]