God's Mill Grinds Slow, But

Of Him That Speakes Ill, Consider The Life More Then The Word. [of Him That Speaks Ill, Consider The Life More Than The Word.]

He That Goeth Farre Hath Many Encounters.

I Gave The Mouse A Hole, And She Is Become My Heire. [i Gave The Mouse A Hole, And She Is Become My Heir.]

It's A Dangerous Fire Begins In The Bed-straw.

I Read, And Sigh, And Wish I Were A Tree; For Sure Then I Should Grow To Fruit Or Shade: At Least Some Bird Would Trust Her Household To Me, And I Should Be Just.