Folly Growes Without Watering.

The Groundsell Speakes Not Save What It Heard At The Hinges.

The Sundaies Of Man's Life, Thredded Together On Time's String, Make Bracelets To Adorn The Wife Of The Eternal, Glorious King. On Sunday Heaven's Gates Stand Ope; Blessings Are Plentiful And Rife. More Plentiful Than Hope.

Rise, Heart; Thy Lord Is Risen. Sing His Praise Without Delays, Who Takes Thee By The Hand, That Thou Likewise With Him Mayst Rise: That, As His Death Calcined Thee To Dust, His Life May Make Thee Gold, And, Much More, Just.

He That Looseth Is Marchant As Well As He That Gaines.

Hee That Goes Barefoot, Must Not Plant Thornes.