Some laborers have hard hands, and old sinners have brawny consciences.
A prosperous state makes a secure Christian, but adversity makes him Consider.
I am obnoxious to each carping tongue who says my hand a needle better fits.
But man grows old, lies down, remains where once he's laid.
My age I will not once lament, / But sing, my time so near is spent.
We must, therefore, be here as strangers and pilgrims, that we may plainly declare that we seek a city above.