Well I Sup And Well I Dine,

Hast Thou Attempted Greatnesse? Then Go On; Back-turning Slackens Resolution.

The May-pole Is Up, Now Give Me The Cup; I'll Drink To The Garlands Around It; But First Unto Those Whose Hands Did Compose The Glory Of Flowers That Crown'd It.

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

It Is The End That Crowns Us, Not The Fight.

We Credit Most Our Sight; One Eye Doth Please Our Trust Farre More Than Ten Eare-witnesses.