Feares Are Divided In The Midst.

All Our Pompe The Earth Covers.

All Are Not Merry That Dance Lightly.

A Beane In Liberty Is Better Then A Comfit In Prison.

Sweet Rose, Whose Hue, Angry And Brave, Bids The Rash Gazer Wipe His Eye, Thy Root Is Even In The Grave, And Thou Must Die.

Knowledge Is No Burden.