God bless our good and gracious King, Whose promise none relies on; Who never said a foolish thing, Nor ever did a wise one.

Now piercèd is her virgin zone; She feels the foe within it. She hears a broken amorous groan, The panting lover's fainting moan, Just in the happy minute.

The clog of all pleasure, the luggage of life, is the best can be said for a very good wife.

Dead we become the lumber of the world.

All men would be cowards if they could.

Late children are early orphans.

Whenever you preach, be sure that you lift the Saviour high and lay the sinner low.