Paines To Get, Care To Keep, Feare

All Truths Are Not To Be Told.

Hee That Comes Of A Hen Must Scrape.

I Read, And Sigh, And Wish I Were A Tree; For Sure Then I Should Grow To Fruit Or Shade: At Least Some Bird Would Trust Her Household To Me, And I Should Be Just.

At The Games End We Shall See Who Gaines.

Prayer Should Be The Key Of The Day And The Lock Of The Night.