Nature, The Vicar Of The Almighty Lord.

With Emptie Hands Men May No Haukes Lure.

Soun Is Noght But Air Ybroken, And Every Speche That Is Spoken, Loud Or Privee, Foul Or Fair, In His Substaunce Is But Air; For As Flaumbe Is But Lighted Smoke, Right So Soun Is Air Ybroke.

All Good Things Must Come To An End.

Yblessed Be God That I Have Wedded Fyve! Welcome The Sixte, Whan That Evere He Shal.

And Then The Wren Gan Scippen And To Daunce.