An Ill Deede Cannot Bring Honour.

Wouldst Thou Both Eat Thy Cake And Have It?

Lord, With What Care Hast Thou Begirt Us Round! Parents First Season Us; Then Schoolmasters Deliver Us To Laws; They Send Us Bound To Rules Of Reason, Holy Messengers, Pulpits And Sundays, Sorrow Dogging Sin, Afflictions Sorted, Anguish Of All Sizes, Fine Nets And Stratagems To Catch Us In, Bibles Laid Open, Millions Of Surprises, Blessings Beforehand, Ties Of Gratefulness, The Sound Of Glory Ringing In Our Ears: Without, Our Shame; Within, Our Consciences; Angels And Grace, Eternal Hopes And Fears. Yet All These Fences And Their Whole Array One Cunning Bosom-sin Blows Quite Away.

Diseases Of The Eye Are To Bee Cured With The Elbow.

A Scepter Is One Thing, And A Ladle Another.

An Idle Youth, A Needy Age.