He That Feares Leaves, Let Him Not

When My House Burnes, It's Not Good Playing At Chesse.

A Wicked Mans Gift Hath A Touch Of His Master.

Whether Shall The Oxe Goe, Where He Shall Not Labour?

There Are More Physitians In Health Then Drunkards.

That Flesh Is But The Glasse, Which Holds The Dust That Measures All Our Time; Which Also Shall Be Crumbled Into Dust.