The Proverbe Saith That Many A Smale

All Good Things Must Come To An End.

Felds Hath Eyen, And Wode Have Eres.

Min Be The Travaille, And Thin Be The Glorie.

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

Nowhere So Busy A Man As He There Was And Yet He Seemed Busier Than He Was.