He That Riseth First, Is

Let Not Him That Feares Feathers Come Among Wild-foule.

Listen, Sweet Dove, Unto My Song, And Spread Thy Golden Wings In Me; Hatching My Tender Heart So Long, Till It Get Wing, And Flie Away With Thee.

February Makes A Bridge And March Breakes It. [february Makes A Bridge, And March Breaks It.]

But Who Does Hawk At Eagles With A Dove?

He That Is Fallen Cannot Helpe Him That Is Downe. [he That Is Fallen Cannot Help Him That Is Down.]