In Prayer The Lips Ne'er

Our Present Tears Here, Not Our Present Laughter Are But The Handsells Of Our Joys Hereafter.

Give House-room To The Best; 'tis Never Known Verture And Pleasure Both To Dwell In One.

You Say To Me-wards Your Affection's Strong; Pray Love Me Little, So You Love Me Long.

Who With A Little Cannot Be Content, Endures An Everlasting Punishment.

God Doth Not Promise Here To Man That Hewill Free Him Quickly From His Misery;but In His Own Time, And When He Thinks Fit,then He Will Give A Happy End To It.