A Sleepy Master Makes His Servant A

Happie Is Hee That Chastens Himselfe.

Rise, Heart; Thy Lord Is Risen. Sing His Praise Without Delays, Who Takes Thee By The Hand, That Thou Likewise With Him Mayst Rise: That, As His Death Calcined Thee To Dust, His Life May Make Thee Gold, And, Much More, Just.

That Is Gold Which Is Worth Gold.

Hee Looseth Nothing, That Looseth Not God.

The Ofspring Of Those That Are Very Young, Or Very Old, Lasts Not.