Who Doth His Owne Businesse, Foules Not

It's A Dangerous Fire Begins In The Bed-straw.

Of All Smells, Bread; Of All Tastes, Salt.

The Chollerick Drinkes, The Melancholick Eats, The Flegmatick Sleepes.

O What A Sight Were Man, If His Attires Did Alter With His Minde; And Like A Dolphins Skinne, His Clothes Combin'd With His Desires!

An Old Dog Barks Not In Vain.