Enrich my heart, mouth, hands in me, With faith, with hope, with charity, That I may run, rise, rest with Thee.
Bees work for man, and yet they never bruise Their Master's flower, but leave it having done, As fair as ever and as fit to use; So both the flower doth stay and honey run.
By no means run in debt: take thine own measure, Who cannot live on twenty pound a year, Cannot on forty.
Though the Fox run, the chicken hath wings.
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