Who Likes Not The Drinke,

Rise, Heart; Thy Lord Is Risen. Sing His Praise Without Delays, Who Takes Thee By The Hand, That Thou Likewise With Him Mayst Rise: That, As His Death Calcined Thee To Dust, His Life May Make Thee Gold, And, Much More, Just.

Of Faire Things, The Autumne Is Faire.

Great Trees Are Good For Nothing But Shade.

All Our Pompe The Earth Covers.

In Sports And Journeys Men Are Knowne. [in Sports And Journeys Men Are Known.]