Wisedome Hath One Foot On Land, And

Ther's No Great Banquet But Some Fares Ill.

He That Will Not Have Peace, God Gives Him Warre. [he That Will Not Have Peace, God Gives Him War.]

Gold Thou Mayst Safely Touch; But If It Stick Unto Thy Hands, It Woundeth To The Quick.

With Customes Wee Live Well, But Lawes Undoe Us.

He That Doth What He Should Not, Shall Feele What He Would Not. [he That Doth What He Should Not Shall Feel What He Would Not.]