There's Never A New Fashion But It's

One Flesh They Are; And One Flesh, So I'd Guess, Has But One Heart, Come Grief Or Happiness.

And Brought Of Mighty Ale A Large Quart.

Love Will Not Be Constrain'd By Mastery. When Mast'ry Comes, The God Of Love Anon Beateth His Wings, And, Farewell, He Is Gone. Love Is A Thing As Any Spirit Free.

. . . If Gold Rust, What Then Will Iron Do?/ For If A Priest Be Foul In Whom We Trust/ No Wonder That A Common Man Should Rust. . . .

And For To See, And Eek For To Be Seie.