The Fields Have Eyes, And The Woods

Yet In Our Ashen Cold Is Fire Yreken.

Whoso Will Pray, He Must Fast And Be Clean, And Fat His Soul, And Make His Body Lean.

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

One Cannot Be Avenged For Every Wrong; According To The Occasion, Everyone Who Knows How, Must Use Temperance.

For Of Fortunes Sharp Adversitee The Worst Kynde Of Infortune Is This, A Man To Han Ben In Prosperitee, And It Remembren, Whan It Passed Is.