That drink wine in bowls, and anoint themselves with the chief ointments: but they are not grieved for the affliction of Joseph.
I know a beautiful valley in Wales, guarded by well-wooded hills. Spring came there first, and summer lingered longest, and the clear river loitered through the rich pastures and the laughing orchards, as if loth to leave the enchanting scene. But the manufacturer came there; he built his chimneys and he lighted his furnaces, out of which belched forth poisonous fumes night and day. Every tree is dead, no flower blooms there now, the very grass has been eaten off the face of the earth; the beautiful river, in which the pebbles once lay as the pure thoughts in a maiden's mind, is now foul, and the valley, scarred and bare, looks like the entrance into Tophet itself. And this human nature of ours, in which faith, and virtue, and godliness, and all sweet humanities might flourish, in miles of this London of ours, is what bad air, and the gin palace, and the careless indifference of a Christianity bent only upon saving itself, have made it.
Parallel VersesKJV: That drink wine in bowls, and anoint themselves with the chief ointments: but they are not grieved for the affliction of Joseph.