The Will Of Man Is By His

From You Have I Been Absent In The Spring, When Proud Pied April, Dressed In All His Trim, Hath Put A Spirit Of Youth In Every Thing.

Would I Were Dead, If God's Good Will Were So, For What Is In This World But Grief And Woe?

I Am As Vigilant As A Cat To Steal Cream.

A Woman Impudent And Mannish Grown Is Not More Loath'd Than An Effeminate Man.

Through Tattered Clothes Great Vices Do Appear; Robes And Furred Gowns Hide All. Plate Sin With Gold And The Strong Lance Of Justice Hurtless Breaks. Arm It In Rags, A Pigmy's Straw Does Pierce It.