The Glorious Lamp Of Heaven, The Sun.

Give House-room To The Best; 'tis Never Known Verture And Pleasure Both To Dwell In One.

In Things A Moderation Keep; Kings Ought To Shear, Not Skin, Their Sheep.

Let My Muse Fail Of Thy Former Helps, And Only Use Her Inadulterate Strength. What's Done By Me Hereafter Shall Smell Of The Lamp, Not Thee.

Tis Hard To Find God, But To Comprehend Him, As He Is, Is Labour Without End.

Love Is Maintain'd By Wealth: When All Is Spent, Adversity Then Breeds The Discontent.