Chapter 24 of 40 · 95 words · ~1 min read

CLIV.

“I often stood tend’ring my Blood   to wash away your guilt, And eke my Sprite to frame you right,   lest your Souls should be spilt. But you, vile Race, rejected Grace,   when Grace was freely proflfer’d, No changed heart, no heav’nly part   would you, when it was offer’ d.

CLV. [132]

“Who willfully the remedy,   and means of life contemned. Cause have the same themselves to blame,   if now they be condemnéd. You have yourselves, you and none else,  to blame that you must die You chose the way to your decay,   and perish’d willfully.“