Nowhere So Busy A Man As He

For Many A Pasty Have You Robbed Of Blood, And Many A Jack Of Dover Have You Sold That Has Been Heated Twice And Twice Grown Cold. From Many A Pilgrim Have You Had Christ's Curse, For Of Your Parsley They Yet Fare The Worse, Which They Have Eaten With Your Stubble Goose; For In Your Shop Full Many A Fly Is Loose.

Many A True Word Is Spoken In Jest

Make A Virtue Of Necessity.

And She Was Fair As Is The Rose In May.

That Field Hath Eyen, And The Wood Hath Ears.