The First Blow Is As Much As

Old Wine, And An Old Friend, Are Good Provisions.

The Sundaies Of Man's Life, Thredded Together On Time's String, Make Bracelets To Adorn The Wife Of The Eternal, Glorious King. On Sunday Heaven's Gates Stand Ope; Blessings Are Plentiful And Rife. More Plentiful Than Hope.

The Yeare Doth Nothing Else But Open And Shut.

There Are Many Waies To Fame. {there Are Many Ways To Fame.]

Money Refused Loose Its Brightness.