Make Thy Recreation Servant To Thy Business,

The Birds Of The Air Die To Sustain Thee; The Beasts Of The Field Die To Nourish Thee; The Fishes Of The Sea Die To Feed Thee. Our Stomachs Are Their Common Sepulchre. Good God! With How Many Deaths Are Our Poor Lives Patched Up! How Full Of Death Is The Life Of Momentary Man!

No Man's Condition Is So Base As His; None More Accurs'd Than He; For Man Esteems Him Hateful, 'cause He Seems Not What He Is; God Hates Him, 'cause He Is Not What He Seems; What Grief Is Absent, Or What Mischief Can Be Added To The Hate Of God And Man?

Shine Son Of Glory, And My Sinnes Are Gonelike Twinkling Starres Before The Rising Sunne.

Flatter Not Thyself In Thy Faith To God, If Thou Wantest Charity For Thy Neighbor; And Think Not Thou Halt Charity For Thy Neighbor, If Thou Wantest Faith To God; Where They Are Not Both Together, They Are Both Wanting; They Are Both Dead, If Once Divided.

If Thy Daughter Marry Well, Thou Hast Found A Son; If Not, Thou Hast Lost A Daughter.