He That Steals An Egg

Hee That Hath Patience Hath Fatt Thrushes For A Farthing.

It's An Ill Aire Where Wee Gaine Nothing.

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.

Speake Not Of A Dead Man At The Table.

Little Wealth, Little Care.