I Had Not To This Time Subsisted,

Without Good Company All Dainties Lose Their True Relish, And Like Painted Grapes, Are Only Seen, Not Tasted.

Patience, The Beggar's Virtue, Shall Find No Harbor Here.

I Have Play'd The Fool, The Gross Fool, To Believe The Bosom Of A Friend Will Hold A Secret Mine Own Could Not Contain.

Before We End Our Pilgrimage, 'tis Fit That We Should Leave Corruption, And Foul Sin, Behind Us, But With Wash'd Feet And Hands, The Heathens Dar' Not Enter Their Profane Temples; And For Me To Hope My Passage To Eternity Can Be Made Easy, Till I Have Shook Off The Burthen Of My Sins In Free Confession, Aided With Sorrow, And Repentance For Them, Is Against Reason.

A Diamond, Though Set In Horns, Is Still A Diamond, And Sparkles In Purest Gold.