He That Sleeps Feels Not

A Fellow By The Hand Of Nature Mark'd, Quoted, And Sign'd, To Do A Deed Of Shame.

Soft Pity Enters An Iron Gate.

I Am A Kind Of Burr; I Shall Stick.

His Forward Voice Now Is To Speak Well Of His Friend. His Backward Voice Is To Utter Foul Speeches And To Detract.

Love And Meekness, Lord, Become A Churchman Better Than Ambition: Win Straying Souls With Modesty Again, Cast None Away.