When All Sinnes Grow Old, Coveteousnesse Is

The Worst Speak Something Good; If All Want Sense, God Takes A Text, And Preacheth Patience.

Only A Sweet And Virtuous Soul, Like Seasoned Timber, Never Gives.

Divine Grace Was Never Slow.

As Flames Do Work And Wind When They Ascend, So Did I Weave Myself Into The Sense.

Better Speake Truth Rudely, Then Lye Covertly.