We Must Recoile A Little, To The

Hee That Bewailes Himselfe Hath The Cure In His Hands.

Was Ever Grief Like Mine?

The Hearts Letter Is Read In The Eyes.

He That Respects Not Is Not Respected.

There Is No Jollitie But Hath A Smack Of Folly. [there Is No Jollity But Hath A Smack Of Folly.]