The Chollerick Drinkes, The Melancholick Eats, The

Either Wealth Is Much Increased, Or Moderation Is Much Decayed.

Nothing Is To Be Presumed On, Or Despaired Of.

It's A Poore Stake That Cannot Stand One Yeare In The Ground.

Enrich My Heart, Mouth, Hands In Me, With Faith, With Hope, With Charity, That I May Run, Rise, Rest With Thee.

To Him That Will, Waies Are Not Wanting.