Hee That Wipes The Childs Nose, Kisseth

Who Paies The Physitian, Does The Cure.

I Know The Ways Of Pleasure, The Sweet Strains, The Lullings And The Relishes Of It.

When The Tree Is Fallen, All Goe With Their Hatchet. [when The Tree Is Fallen, All Go With Their Hatchet.]

By All Means Use Sometimes To Be Alone. Salute Thyself: See What Thy Soul Doth Wear. Dare To Look In Thy Chest; For 'tis Thine Own: And Tumble Up And Down What Thou Findst There. Who Cannot Rest Till He Good Fellows Find, He Breaks Up House, Turns Out Of Doors His Mind.

Love Bade Me Welcome, But My Soul Drew Back.