And thus he is so poysoned w[i]t[h] bitternes and obstinacy that he begynneth to hate and to blaspheme God in heauen and seketh vnlaufull meanes to helpe and remedye hym self, lyke as Saul dyd, runnynge after wytches and sothsaiers,
Some branches were sawn off.
He was looking anything but the happy gandermooner of the night before. It seemed that his wife was nigh on her time, and that she and the midwife were both seeing portents and she wanted a parson standing by, for her ease of mind: […]
Ye Swains, invoke the Pow'rs who rule the Sky, For a moiſt Summer, and a Winter dry: For Winter drout rewards the Peaſant's Pain, And broods indulgent on the bury'd Grain.
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