Roses at first were white, Till thy co'd not agree, Whether my Sapho's breast, Or they more white sho'd be.
In prayer the lips ne'er act the winning part, Without the sweet concurrence of the heart.
A spark neglected makes a mighty fire.
In vain our labours are, whatsoe'er they be, unless God gives the Benediction.
T is the will that makes the action good or ill.
Against diseases here the strongest fence is the defensive vertue, Abstinence.