Time Travels In Divers Paces

Being Holiday, The Beggar's Shop Is Shut.

A Wretched Soul, Bruised With Adversity, We Bid Be Quiet When We Hear It Cry. But Were We Burd'ned With Like Weight Of Pain, As Much Or More We Should Ourselves Complain: So Thou, That Hast No Unkind Mate To Grieve Thee, With Urging Helpless Patience Wouldst Relieve Me; But If Thou Live To See Like Right Bereft, This Fool-begged Patience In Thee Will Be Left.

And He Goes Through Life, His Mouth Open, And His Mind Closed.

Loathsome Canker Lives In Sweetest Bud.

If I Be Waspish, Best Beware My Sting.