If No Love Is, O God, What

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.

And Gladly Wolde He Lerne, And Gladly Teche.

Take A Cat, Nourish It Well With Milk And Tender Meat, Make It A Couch Of Silk.

Ther Nis No Werkman, Whatsoevere He Be, That May Bothe Werke Wel And Hastily.

This World Nys But A Thurghfare Ful Of Wo, And We Been Pilgrymes, Passynge To And Fro.