He Hath Great Neede Of A Foole,

When You Are An Anvill, Hold You Still; When You Are A Hammer, Strike Your Fill.

Church Bells Beyond The Stars Heard, The Soul's Blood, The Land Of Spices; Something Understood.

Presse A Stick, And It Seemes A Youth.

At Length The Fox Turnes Monk.

Empty Chambers Make Foolish Maides.