My Hope And Treasure Lies Above

Wickedness Comes To Its Height By Degrees. He That Dares Say Of A Less Sin, Is It Not A Little One? Will Ere Long Say Of A Greater, Tush, God Regards It Not!

If We Had No Winter, The Spring Would Not Be So Pleasant.

If What I Do Prove Well, It Won't Advance. They'll Say It's Stolen, Or Else It Was By Chance.

Satan, That Great Angler, Hath His Sundry Baits For Sundry Tempers Of Men, Which They All Catch Greedily At, But Few Perceive The Hook Till It Be Too Late.

It Is Reported Of The Peacock That Priding Himself In His Gay Feathers He Ruffles Them Up; But Spying His Black Feet He Soon Lets Fall His Plumes. So He That Glories In His Gifts And Adornings Should Look Upon His Corruptions, And That Will Damp His High Thoughts.