If Love Be Good, From Whence Cometh

And So It Is In Politics, Dear Brother, Each For Himself Alone, There Is No Other.

Oon Ere It Herde, At Tother Out It Went.

Of Harmes Two The Lesse Is For To Cheese.

That Field Hath Eyen, And The Wood Hath Ears.

Whan That Aprill With His Shoures Soote The Droghte Of March Hath Perced To The Roote.