Thou, Kind Redeemer, toucht to ſee / So ſad a Sight, ſuch moving Miſery, / Didſt ſoon determine to diſpel / Theſe Shades of Death, and Gloom of Hell: / And ſo to reviſit with Thy Heav'nly Light / Loſt Man, bewilder'd in Infernal Night.
Out front was a clean dirt yard with every vestige of grass patiently uprooted and the ground scarred in deep whorls from the strike of Livvie’s broom.
You will find the clay perfectly pliable as long as it stays moist.
Tout le monde is now saying these particular trans fats are so completely and utterly heinous for our tickers and arteries that lard is starting to look good again.
