It's An Ill Wind That Blows No

I Perfectly Feele Even At My Fingers End.

Might Have Gone Further And Have Fared Worse.

When The Sunne Shineth, Make Hay.

Som Thingis That Prouoke Young Men To Wed In Haste,show After Weddyng, That Hast Maketh Waste.

What Heart Can Think, Or Tongue Express, The Harm That Groweth Of Idleness?