What To My Saviour Shall I Givewho

Youth Is The Time Of Getting, Middle Age Of Improving, And Old Age Of Spending; A Negligent Youth Is Usually Attended By An Ignorant Middle Age, And Both By An Empty Old Age.

We Must, Therefore, Be Here As Strangers And Pilgrims, That We May Plainly Declare That We Seek A City Above.

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.

Sweet Words Are Like Honey, A Little May Refresh, But Too Much Gluts The Stomach.

O Time The Fatal Wrack Of Mortal Things, That Draws Oblivion's Curtains Over Kings; Their Sumptuous Monuments, Men Know Them Not, Their Names Without A Record Are Forgot, Their Parts, Their Ports, Their Pomps All Laid In Th' Dust Nor Wit Nor Gold, Nor Buildings Scape Time's Rust; But He Whose Name Is Graved In The White Stone Shall Last And Shine When All Of These Are Gone.