Then I saw that there was a way to Hell, even from the gates of heaven.
4
Hanging is too good for him, said Mr Cruelty.
5
Yet my great-grandfather was but a waterman, looking one way, and rowing another.
4
A foul Fiend coming over the field to meet him; his name is Apollyon.
8
It beareth the name of Vanity-Fair, because the town where ‘tis kept, is lighter than vanity.
6
Down into the valley of Humiliation.
5
The name of the slough was Despond.
5
As I walked through the wilderness of this world.
5
He that is down, needs fear no fall, He that is low, no pride.
5
Who would true valor see, Let him come hither; One here will constant be, Come wind, come weather. There’s no discouragement Shall make him once relent His first avow’d intent
