What Early Tongue So Sweet Saluteth Me?

Why Didst Thou Promise Such A Beauteous Day And Make Me Travel Forth Without My Cloak, To Let Base Clouds O'ertake Me In My Way, Hiding They Brav'ry In Their Rotten Smoke?

There Is Little Choice In A Barrel Of Rotten Apples.

For A Quart Of Ale Is A Dish For A King.

I Shall The Effect Of This Good Lesson Keeps As Watchman To My Heart.

The Fire Seven Times Tried This; Seven Times Tried That Judgement Is That Did Never Choose Amiss Some There Be That Shadows Kiss; Such Have But A Shadows Bliss, There Be Fool Alive, I Wis Silverd O'er, And So Was This Take What Wife You Will To Bed I Will Ever Be Your Head. So Be Gone; You Are Sped.