Of Harmes Two The Lesse Is For

Look Up On High, And Thank The God Of All.

Habit Maketh No Monk, Ne Wearing Of Gilt Spurs Maketh No Knight.

If No Love Is, O God, What Fele I So? And If Love Is, What Thing And Which Is He? If Love Be Good, From Whennes Cometh My Woo? If It Be Wikke, A Wonder Thynketh Me

Til That The Brighte Sonne Loste His Hewe; For Th'orisonte Hath Reft The Sonne His Lyght; This Is As Muche To Seye As It Was Nyght!

Oon Ere It Herde, At Tother Out It Went.