Quick Beleevers Neede Broad Shoulders.

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.

In Good Yeares Corne Is Hay, In Ill Yeares Straw Is Corne.

Man Is All Symmetry Full Of Proportions, One Limb To Another, And All To All The World Besides; Each Part May Call The Farthest, Brother; For Head With Foot Hath Private Amity And Both With Moons And Tides.

If Yee Would Know A Knave, Give Him A Staffe.

Not A Long Day, But A Good Heart Rids Worke.