A Man Is Known To Be Mortal

No Day So Clear But Hath Dark Clouds.

If Folly Were Griefe Every House Would Weepe. [if Folly Were Grief, Every House Would Weep.]

He That Doth What He Should Not, Shall Feele What He Would Not. [he That Doth What He Should Not Shall Feel What He Would Not.]

Were It Not For The Bone In The Legge, All The World Would Turne Carpenters (to Make Them Crutches).

If That Thy Fame With Ev'ry Toy Be Pos'd, 'tis A Thin Web, Which Poysonous Fancies Make; But The Great Souldier's Honour Was Compos'd Of Thicker Stuf, Which Would Endure A Shake. Wisdom Picks Friends; Civility Plays The Rest; A Toy Shunn'd Cleanly Passeth With The Best.