Who Would Have Thought My Shrivel'd Heart

He That Hath Time And Looks For Better Time, Time Comes That He Repents Himself Of Time.

A Gift Much Expected Is Paid, Not Given.

Who Hath No Hast In His Businesse, Mountaines To Him Seeme Valleys.

The Good Mother Sayes Not, Will You? But Gives.

Happier Are The Hands Compast With Yron, Then A Heart With Thoughts.