What's Done Is Done. The Joy Is

Ill Deeds Are Doubled With An Evil Word.

Men That Make Envy And Crooked Malice Nourishment, Dare Bite The Best.

I Am Declined Into The Vale Of Years.

To Business That We Love We Rise Betime, And Go To't With Delight.

There's Nothing Ill Can Dwell In Such A Temple. If The Ill Spirit Have So Fair A House, Good Things Will Strive To Dwell With't