Moral and political fables, ancient and modern done into measured prose intermixed with ryme by Dr. Walter Pope.

Others out of I. C.

God spijst de voghelen, maer sy moeten der o•••• vliegen Niemant en komen de gebraden duyven in de•• gerlogen mont, Armoede is leuyheyts loon, Wie besoeten wil, moet besueren, Die de eperen hebben will, moet het kakelen den hennen lijden. Den slapenden Dos valt niet in den muyl. Hant aen den ploegh, so salt God vorderen Tot Gods hulp behoeft arbeyt, Rept handen en voeten, God salt versoeten. Stroopt u armen, en seght God wouts. Den slapende Wolf en loopt geen schaep in de•• mont. Die't verken killen wil moet hem het tieren troosten Een vliegende kraey vangt wat.

This may be so Translated.

God provides meat for Birds, but they must fetch it Roast Pigeons fly not into any Mans mouth. Poverty is the Wages of Idleness. Who will get, must Sweat. They who will have Eggs, must bear with the cackling of the Hens. Nothing falls into the mouth of a sleeping Fox. Put to your hand, then cry, God speed the Plow. Labour Gods Help procures. Make bare your Arm, then cry God help. No Sheep run into th' mouths of sleeping Wolves.

He that will kill a Hog, must endure his noise. A Crow upon the Wing, finds something to eat.