Grief Melts Away Like Snow In May,

He That Is Not Handsome At 20, Nor Strong At 30, Nor Rich At 40, Nor Wise At 50, Will Never Be Handsome, Strong, Rich Or Wise.

Chuse None For Thy Servant Who Have Served Thy Betters.

He That Talkes Much Of His Happinesse Summons Griefe.

Who Goes To Bed, And Doth Not Pray, Maketh Two Nights To Every Day!

To Him That Will, Waies Are Not Wanting.