Willowes Are Weak, Yet They Bind Other

Woe To The House Where There Is No Chiding.

Every Ill Man Hath His Ill Day.

A Drunkards Purse Is A Bottle.

Rise, Heart; Thy Lord Is Risen. Sing His Praise Without Delays, Who Takes Thee By The Hand, That Thou Likewise With Him Mayst Rise: That, As His Death Calcined Thee To Dust, His Life May Make Thee Gold, And, Much More, Just.

To Go Where The King Goes Afoot (i.e. To The Stool).