He Is A Foole That

Play Not For Gain, But Sport. Who Plays For More Than He Can Lose With Pleasure, Stakes His Heart; Perhaps His Wife's Too, And Whom She Hath Bore.

Lord! Who Hath Praise Enough?

More Have Repented Speech Then Silence. [more Have Repented Speech Than Silence.]

How Wide Is All This Long Pretense! There Is In Love A Sweetness Ready Penned, Copy Out Only That, And Save Expense.

To Whirle The Eyes Too Much Shewes A Kites Braine.