Gather Ye Rosebuds, While Ye May.

Each Must In Virtue Strive For To Excel; That Man Lives Twice That Lives The First Life Well.

Our Present Tears Here, Not Our Present Laughter Are But The Handsells Of Our Joys Hereafter.

But Here's The Sunset Of A Tedious Day, These Two Asleep Are; I'll But Be Undrest, And So To Bed. Pray Wish Us All Good Rest.

We Credit Most Our Sight; One Eye Doth Please Our Trust Farre More Than Ten Eare-witnesses.

Let's Live With That Small Pittance Which We Have; Who Covets More Is Evermore A Slave.