A Faire Death Honours The Whole Life.

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

Whether Goest, Griefe? Where I Am Wont.

Throw Away Thy Rod, Throw Away Thy Wrath; O My God, Take The Gentle Path.

Gamsters And Race-horses Never Last Long.

Good & Quickly Seldome Meete.