Words To Deeds Cold Breath Gives.

Methinks I Am A Prophet New Inspired And Thus, Expiring, Do Foretell Of Him: His Rash Fierce Blaze Of Riot Cannot Last, For Violent Fires Soon Burn Out Themselves; Small Show'rs Last Long, But Sudden Storms Are Short; He Tires Betimes That Spurs Too Fast Betimes; With Eager Feeding Doth Choke The Feeder; Light Vanity, Insatiate Cormorant, Consuming Means, Soon Preys Upon Itself.

The Fool Multitude, That Choose By Show, Not Learning More Than The Fond Eye Doth Teach.

To Whom God Will, There Be The Victory.

Study Is Like The Heaven's Glorious Sun, That Will Not Be Deep-searched With Saucy Looks: Small Have Continual Plodders Ever Won, Save Base Authority From Others' Books.

As There Comes Light From Heaven And Words From Breath, As There Is Sense In Truth And Truth In Virtue