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Wynne, Ellis, 1671-1734

"The Visions of the Sleeping Bard"

" But here they yelped blasphemy,
asking: "Where is that mercy boasted to be infinite?" "Silence, ye
whelps!" said a huge, crabbed devil who heard them, "Silence! would he
have mercy who did nought to obtain it? Would ye that Truth should make
its word a lie, merely to gain the company of dross so vile as ye? Was
too much mercy shewn you, a Saviour, a Comforter given you, and the
angels, books, sermons and good examples? Will ye not cease plaguing us
now, prating of mercy where it never was."
While making our exit from this glaring pit, I heard one moaning and
crying dolefully: "I knew no better; no pains were ever taken to teach
me to read my duties, nor could I spare the time to read and pray whereof
I had need in order to earn bread for myself and my poor family."
"Indeed," quoth a crookback devil who stood close at hand, "hadst thou no
leisure to tell merry tales, no idle roasting before thy fire through the
long winter evenings when I was up the chimney, so that no time might
have been given to learning to read or pray? What of thy Sabbaths? Who
was it that was wont to accompany me to the alehouse rather than the
parson to the church? How many a Sunday afternoon was spent in vain,
noisy talk of worldly things, or in sleeping, instead of in learning to
meditate and pray? Didst thou act according to thy knowledge? Silence,
sirrah, with thy lying chatter!" "Thou raving bloodhound!" exclaimed the
condemned, "'tis not long since thou wert whispering other words in mine
ear; hadst thou said this another day, it is not likely I would have come
hither.


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