Can One Desire Too Much Of A

Moderate Lamentation Is The Right Of The Dead, Excessive Grief The Enemy To The Living.

Corruption Wins Not More Than Honesty. Still In Thy Right Hand Carry Gentle Peace, To Silence Envious Tongues.

The Robbed That Smiles, Steals Something From The Thief.

Grace Me No Grace, Nor Uncle Me No Uncle.

If We Shadows Have Offended, Think But This, And All Is Mended, That You Have But Slumber'd Here While These Visions Did Appear.