Of A New Prince, New Bondage.

In Cloths Cheap Handsomeness, Doth Bear The Bell.

God Is At The End, When We Thinke He Is Furthest Off It.

Money, Thou Bane Of Bliss, And Source Of Woe, Whence Cam'st Thou, That Thou Art So Fresh And Fine? I Know Thy Parentage Is Base And Low: Man Found Thee Poor And Dirty In A Mine.

Take Heede Of Still Waters, The Quick Passe Away.

He That Knows Nothing Doubts Nothing.