The Throstell, with shrill Sharps; as purposely he song / T’awake the lustlesse Sunne; or chyding, that so long

Come on guys, let's move: there's work to do!

Immortal God, that savedest Susanne / From false blame; and thou merciful maid, / Mary I mean, the daughter to Saint Anne, /Before whose child the angels sing Osanne,

[…] on all such occasions Mr. Grimwig plants, fishes, and carpenters with great ardour, doing everything in a very singular and unprecedented manner; but always maintaining, with his favourite asseveration, that his mode is the right one.