Thou Knowest, Winter Tames Man, Woman, And

Speak, What Trade Art Thou? Why, Sir, A Carpenter. Where Is Thy Leather Apron And Thy Rule? What Does Thou With Thy Best Apparel On?

Crowns In My Purse I Have, And Goods At Home, And So Am Come Abroad To See The World.

Full Of Wise Saws And Modern Instances.

I Have Sounded The Very Base-string Of Humility.

Awake, Awake, English Nobility! Let Not Sloth Dim Your Horrors New-begot.