He Is A Foole That Makes A

The Constancy Of The Benefit Of The Yeere In Their Seasons Argues A Deity.

Bees Work For Man, And Yet They Never Bruise Their Master's Flower, But Leave It Having Done, As Fair As Ever And As Fit To Use; So Both The Flower Doth Stay And Honey Run.

The Fox, When Hee Cannot Reach The Grapes, Saies They Are Not Ripe.

Only A Sweet And Virtuous Soul, Like Seasoned Timber, Never Gives.

Let None Say, I Will Not Drinke Water.