The Fault Of The Horse Is Put

The Tree That God Plants, No Winde Hurts It.

When One Is On Horsebacke Hee Knowes All Things.

Though A Lie Be Well Drest, It Is Ever Overcome. [though A Lie Be Well Dressed, It Is Ever Overcome.]

Covetousnesse Breaks The Bag.

Throw Away Thy Rod, Throw Away Thy Wrath; O My God, Take The Gentle Path.