Hyt Is Not Al Golde That Glareth.

Remember In The Forms Of Speech Comes Change Within A Thousand Years, And Words That Then Were Well Esteemed, Seem Foolish Now And Strange; And Yet They Spake Them So, Time And Again, And Thrived In Love As Well As Any Men; And So To Win Their Loves In Sundry Days, In Sundry Lands There Are As Many Ways.

If No Love Is, O God, What Fele I So? And If Love Is, What Thing And Which Is He? If Love Be Good, From Whennes Cometh My Woo? If It Be Wikke, A Wonder Thynketh Me

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

And Then The Wren Gan Scippen And To Daunce.

There's Never A New Fashion But It's Old.