Who reade a chapter when they rise,
Shall ne're be troubled with ill eyes.
A poore man's rod, when thou dost ride,
Is both a weapon and a guide.
Who shuts his hand, hath lost his gold:
Who opens it, hath it twice told.
Who goes to bed, and doth not pray,
Maketh two nights to ev'ry day.
Who by aspersions throw a stone
At th' head of others, hit their own.
Who looks on ground with humble eyes,
Findes himself there, and seeks to rise.
When th' hair is sweet through pride or lust,
The powder doth forget the dust.
Take one from ten, and what remains?
Ten still, if sermons go for gains.
In shallow waters heav'n doth show:
But who drinks on to hell may go.
