He That Chastens One, Chastens 20.

The Perswasion Of The Fortunate Swaies The Doubtfull.

There Is No Man, Though Never So Little, But Sometimes He Can Hurt.

Sorrow Was All My Soul; I Scarce Believed, Till Grief Did Tell Me Roundly, That I Lived.

Though You See A Church-man Ill, Yet Continue In The Church Still.

Who Hath A Wolfe For His Mate, Needes A Dog For His Man.