The Proud Man Hath No God; The

He That Taketh His Own Cares Upon Himself Loads Himself In Vain With An Uneasy Burden. I Will Cast All My Cares On God; He Hath Bidden Me; They Cannot Burden Him.

Earthly Greatness Is A Nice Thing, And Requires So Much Chariness In The Managing, As The Contentment Of It Cannot Requite.

The Malcontent Is Neither Well, Full Nor Fasting; And Though He Abounds With Complaints, Yet Nothing Dislikes Him But The Present; For What He Condemns While It Was, Once Passed, He Magnifies And Strives To Recall It Out Of The Jaw Of Time. What He Hath He Seeth Not, His Eyes Are So Taken Up With What He Wants; And What He Sees He Careth Not For, Because Be Cares So Much For That Which Is Not.

It Is Not The Bee's Touching On The Flowers That Gathers The Honey, But Her Abiding For A Time Upon Them, And Drawing Out The Sweet.

God Loves To See His Creatures Happy; Our Lawful Delight Is His; They Know Not God That Think To Please Him With Making Themselves Miserable. The Idolaters Thought It A Fit Service For Baal To Cut And Lance Themselves; Never Any Holy Man Looked For Thanks From The True God By Wronging Himself.