The Glorious Lamp Of Heaven,

Tears Are The Noble Language Of Eyes, And When True Love Of Words Is Destitute. The Eye By Tears Speak, While The Tongue Is Mute.

Lord, 'tis Thy Plenty-dropping Hand That Soils My Land, And Giv'st Me For My Bushel Sowne Twice Ten For One. All This, And Better, Thou Dost Send Me, To This End, That I Should Render, For My Part, A Thankful Heart.

The First Act's Doubtful, But We Say, It Is The Last Commends The Play.

Against Diseases Here The Strongest Fence Is The Defensive Vertue, Abstinence.

Men Are Suspicious; Prone To Discontent: Subjects Still Loathe The Present Government.