From the men of thy hande (O Lord) from the men of the worlde, which haue theyr porcion in this lyfe: whose bellyes thou fyllest with thy treasure. They haue chyldren at theyr desyre, and leaue the rest of of theyr substaunce for their babes.
Behold the foules of the ayer: for the sowe not, neyther reape, nor yet cary into the barnes: and yet your heauenlye father fedethe them. Are ye not muche better then they?
Consyder the rauens, for they neyther sowe, nor repe, which neyther haue store house nor barne, and yet God fedeth them. Howe muche are ye better then the fowles.