Praise Day At Night, And Life At

All Things Have Their Place, Knew Wee How To Place Them.

The Faulty Stands On His Guard.

Bees Work For Man, And Yet They Never Bruise Their Master's Flower, But Leave It Having Done, As Fair As Ever And As Fit To Use; So Both The Flower Doth Stay And Honey Run.

Every Bees Hony Is Sweet.

Brabling Curres Never Want Torne Eares.