For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.
He oft finds med'cine, who his griefe imparts; But double griefs afflict concealing harts, As raging flames who striveth to supresse.
All that in this delightful garden grows should happy be and have immortal bliss.
It often falls, in course of common life, that right long time is overborne of wrong.
The fish once caught, new bait will hardly bite.
Rising glory occasions the greatest envy, as kindling fire the greatest smoke.