Tis Hard To Be Wretched, But Worse

The Reasons Of The Poore Weigh Not. [the Reasons Of The Poor Weigh Not.]

The Thought Hath Good Leggs, And The Quill A Good Tongue.

Dogs Are Fine In The Field.

A Sleepy Master Makes His Servant A Lowt.

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