The Fields Have Eyes, And The Woods

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

The Bisy Larke, Messager Of Day.

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

I Gave My Whole Heart Up, For Him To Hold.

The Handsome Gifts That Fate And Nature Lend Us Most Often Are The Very Ones That End Us.