Time Lost, As Men May See, For

Lat Take A Cat, And Fostre Him Wel With Milk, And Tendre Flesh, And Make His Couche Of Silk, And Let Him Seen A Mous Go By The Wal; Anon He Weyveth Milk, And Flesh, And Al, And Every Deyntee That Is In That Hous, Swich Appetyt Hath He To Ete A Mous.

One Eare It Heard, At The Other Out It Went.

I Hold A Mouses Wit Not Worth A Leke, That Hath But On Hole For To Sterten To.

Every Honest Miller Has A Golden Thumb.

And When A Beest Is Deed, He Hath No Peyne; But Man After His Deeth Moot Wepe And Pleyne.