Sweet Tastes Have Sour Closes; And He

Tis Not, To Cry God Mercy, Or To Sit And Droop, Or To Confess That Thou Hast Fail'd: 'tis To Bewail The Sins Thou Didst Commit: And Not Commit Those Sins Thou Hast Bewail' D. He That Bewails And Not Forsakes Them Too; Confesses Rather What He Means To Do.

Has Fortune Dealt You Some Bad Cards. Then Let Wisdom Make You A Good Gamester.

It Is No Happiness To Live Long, Nor Unhappiness To Die Soon; Happy Is He That Hath Lived Long Enough To Die Well.

Diogenes Found More Rest In His Tub Than Alexander On His Throne.

Even As The Needle That Directs The Hour, (touched With The Loadstone) By The Secret Power Of Hidden Nature, Points Upon The Pole; Even So The Wavering Powers Of My Soul, Touch'd By The Virtue Of Thy Spirit, Flee From What Is Earth, And Point Alone To Thee.