Call Me Not An Olive, Till Thou

A Snow Yeare, A Rich Yeare.

A Beane In Liberty Is Better Then A Comfit In Prison.

I Read, And Sigh, And Wish I Were A Tree; For Sure Then I Should Grow To Fruit Or Shade: At Least Some Bird Would Trust Her Household To Me, And I Should Be Just.

We Live In An Age That Hath More Need Of Good Example Than Precepts.

One Hand Washeth Another, And Both The Face.