| To the Truly Noble Lord, Deservedly Al-Be-Loved, the Lord north |
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| The Flea |
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| Too Much Honie Breakes the Belly |
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| Rob Not the Poore, Because He Is Poore; Neyther Wrong Him in Judgement |
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| To the Most Compleat Gentleman John Luson Esquire |
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| Of Myselfe |
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| That the Eye is Sinnes Burning-Glasse, Working Upon the Heart and Soule |
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| Let Us Heare the End: Feare God, and Keepe His Commandments |
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| To My Most Loving and Highly Valued Friend, Mr Nathaniell Tompkins |
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| A Conclusion |
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