Foolery, Sir, Does Walk About The Orb

A Man In All The World's New Fashion Planted, That Hath A Mint Of Phrases In His Brain.

I See A Woman May Be Made A Fool, If She Had Not A Spirit To Resist.

There Is Little Choice In A Barrel Of Rotten Apples.

However Wickedness Outstrips Men, It Has No Wings To Fly From God.

For I Am Proverbed With A Grandsire Phrase.