Ther Is No Newe Gyse That It

For Thogh We Slepe, Or Wake, Or Rome, Or Ryde, Ay Fleeth The Tyme; It Nyl No Man Abyde.

But All Thing Which That Shineth As The Gold Ne Is No Gold, As I Have Herd It Told.

For Oute Of Olde Feldys, As Men Sey, Comyth Al This Newe Corn From Yer To Yere; And Out Of Olde Bokis, In Good Fey, Comyth Al This Newe Science That Men Lere.

If Gold Rusts, What Then Can Iron Do?

A Yokel Mind Loves Stories From Of Old, Being The Kind It Can Repeat And Hold.