All Good Things Must Come To An

The Life So Brief, The Art So Long In The Learning, The Attempt So Hard, The Conquest So Sharp, The Fearful Joy That Ever Slips Away So Quickly - By All This I Mean Love, Which So Sorely Astounds My Feeling With Its Wondrous Operation, That When I Think Upon It I Scarce Know Whether I Wake Or Sleep.

For Many A Pasty Have You Robbed Of Blood, And Many A Jack Of Dover Have You Sold That Has Been Heated Twice And Twice Grown Cold. From Many A Pilgrim Have You Had Christ's Curse, For Of Your Parsley They Yet Fare The Worse, Which They Have Eaten With Your Stubble Goose; For In Your Shop Full Many A Fly Is Loose.

For In Their Hearts Doth Nature Stir Them So Then People Long On Pilgrimage To Go And Palmers To Be Seeking Foreign Strands To Distant Shrines Renowned In Sundry Lands.

I Wol Yow Telle, As Was Me Taught Also, The Foure Spirites And The Bodies Sevene, By Ordre, As Ofte I Herde My Lord Hem Nevene. The Firste Spirit Quiksilver Called Is, The Second Orpiment, The Thridde, Ywis, Sal Armoniak, And The Firthe Brimstoon. The Bodies Sevene Eek, Lo! Hem Heer Anoon: Sol Gold Is, And Luna Silver We Threpe, Mars Yron, Mercurie Quiksilver We Clepe, Saturnus Leed, And Jupiter Is Tin, And Venus Coper, By My Fader Kin!

The Fields Have Eyes, And The Woods Have Ears.