All Our Pompe The Earth Covers.

It's Absurd To Warme One In His Armour.

Nothing Dries Sooner Then A Teare.

Hee That Hath A Fox For His Mate, Hath Neede Of A Net At His Girdle.

Hee That Repaires Not A Part, Builds All.

Church Bells Beyond The Stars Heard, The Soul's Blood, The Land Of Spices; Something Understood.